


As days go this is a weird one

by MadSophHatter



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Hugh, BAMF Michael, BAMF Paul, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Fluff, Introspection, M/M, Medical Restraints, Minor Original Character(s), Panic, Trauma, and there will be a big heap of fluff at the end promise, episode magic to make the sanest man go mad, stamets has to go through a lot of shit to save the people he loves, the fluff is hidden in between the angst, timeloop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-27 19:25:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12588904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadSophHatter/pseuds/MadSophHatter
Summary: Lieutenant Paul Stamets has to go through the same 30 minutes over and over again. This ist the story of what he has to endure during the repeating time loop. First he has to figure out what is happening. Then he has to find a way to explain to his husband that he's neither mad nor sick. Then he has to save them all. It's not gonna be easy.





	1. The first time

**Author's Note:**

> I was a bit frantic to get it out when I wrote this. It's not betaed. I hope it's still ok. Let me know if there are any blatant mistakes.   
> Thanks for reading.
> 
> CW: There are implied multiple character deaths, because of course Stamets sees his crewmates die over and over again. If your know the episode, you know that all's gonna be well in the end.

The first time:

The first time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets was confused but relieved. One moment he was in his quarters with Hugh, red alert blaring. He could feel the ship exploding around him and everything went dark. The next moment he was back in Sickbay, his lips about an inch away from where he’d just stolen a kiss from Hugh, when nobody had been watching.

Hugh was smiling sweetly about the show of affection until he noticed Paul blinking in confusion. 

“What’s wrong?” Hugh’s doctor mode was always just beneath the surface these days. He still feared that the abrupt changes in Paul’s personality might be a sign for medical trouble. 

“Something strange just happened. Maybe I was dreaming, but it felt very real and very scary.” Paul’s brow furrowed. He didn’t even know how to explain this properly. “I saw you die. I saw us die, I mean, the ship was destroyed.”

“What do you mean you saw it? Are you having hallucinations?” Now Hugh was really worried. Paul could see it through his tense mask of professionalism. He was reaching for his scanner and started to take Paul’s readings. It was annoying, but for the first time since his dabbling in eugenics, the mycologist was worried enough to let it happen without comment.

“No, it didn’t feel like that. And I didn’t just see it. It happened.” Paul’s brain felt like it was spinning in his head, trying to make sense of it. One of his hands was holding on to Hugh. He was still shaken, by the experience of practically dying and coming back. The presence of his partner grounded him. It was imperative to feel that Hugh was alive and here. He tried to explain again, while the doctor looked confused by the readings he was getting.

“We were here in sickbay, collecting the tech you need to monitor the device. I kissed you.”

“That happened.”

“Yeah, I know. But I also know what happened then … happens now… will happen? This is confusing. We took the tech and went to our quarters. On the way we ran into Burnham and the new guy – Tyler – quite literally. There’s something going on between those two. It’s kind of cute, but also really confusing.”

Hugh looked exasperated and somehow that was better than the look of concern he’d worn before. “Don’t get distracted. You said we died? Somehow that feels more important, don’t you think?”

“Right. Right! So we went to our quarters. You set up your machines, all concentrated and a bit pissed. I remember because it’s incredibly sexy when you’re like that.” Hugh smiled at that, but his face hardened again in an instant, telling Paul to not go off on a tangent again. “You gave me a lecture about not embarrassing you in public. But I didn’t listen really. As I said, you’re hot when you’re like that.” Hugh pulled up an eyebrow in impatience.

“Paul! Get to the point!”

“That was when all hell broke loose. The ship went into red alert. Shortly after, there was an explosion. We died. And then I was back here, kissing you, just like that never happened.”

“It didn’t happen, babe. We’re still here.” Hugh had put away his tricorder and braced his hands on Paul’s shoulders now. It was immediately grounding. “Do you have any other symptoms? Pain? Dizziness? Anything that came with that – vision – for lack of a better word.”

“No. I felt absolutely great. And I’m still feeling pretty normal, apart from being confused. What do your machines say, dear doctor?”

“Nothing. All your readings look normal. Your brain chemistry isn’t different from what it’s been like ever since you’ve injected yourself with the tardigrade DNA. The only things I could find were a heightened heart rate and elevated levels of adrenaline – both easily explained by your excitement.”

Hugh looked about as helpless as Paul felt. He didn’t have to deal with the memory of the whole crew dying though. He only had to worry about his husband, not the lives of more than a hundred crew members and the only ship with a spore drive, realistically the only weapon that could win this war. Suddenly Paul was buzzing with the necessity to prevent this from happening.

“We need to do something”, he said, already turning to go without quite knowing where – his body three steps ahead of his mind. Hugh was still holding on to him though. His grip tightened. Hugh rarely used it to his advantage, but he was considerably stronger than Paul.

“I want a second opinion first. Something’s wrong with you and we need to find out what. Maybe the CMO can find something.” Hugh was about to pull his husband over to the centre of sickbay, where his colleagues were working. 

“No.” Paul planted his feet. He knew that as soon as the other doctors heard about his ‘hallucination’ there was no way they’d let him leave sickbay anytime soon. And he couldn’t try to save the ship – if it actually needed saving – when he was locked up here.

“Paul!” The shocked look Hugh gave him was like a fist to the gut. “This is no laughing matter! Something could be seriously wrong with you.”

“I know.” Paul sighed, trying to go slowly. “But this is not just me not wanting you to doctor me. I understand you’re worried. But I’m worried too. What if all I’ve seen is really going to happen? I need to stop that.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know, Hugh. But it’s not completely impossible, is it? What would you do if you were in my shoes? Wouldn’t you want to protect me from any danger no matter how sure you were that it could be just your imagination?” That hit its mark. Hugh’s eyes turned to the floor. That was exactly what he would do and there was no point arguing about it. “Listen, babe, we don’t have much time. If this plays out as I’ve seen it, we have about twenty minutes. Please, let me go to the bridge and find out if there could be anything wrong. I promise I’ll come back. If this ship is still intact in half an hour, I’ll be happy to sit here and be poked and prodded by you and your colleagues for hours. Please?”

Big brown eyes were turned to him again. He could see worry and trust warring behind them. 

“Ok,” Hugh said after a tense moment, “But there is no way I’m letting you go alone.”

Paul exhaled in relief. Then they were on their way, hurrying to the bridge.

As they reached the turbolift, Paul was so frantic, that he collided with Burnham again, even though he should have known that she was coming. He couldn’t help but hug her again when she apologised – the memory of her dying along with the rest of the crew still fresh on his mind. He couldn’t help, but give Hugh a look over her shoulder that said, “See? I was right.” The doctor didn’t look really convinced though.

All four of them entered the turbolift. Burnham and Tyler had no idea why they’d been called to the bridge. But they would see in a moment.  
Lorca did not look happy as they came in. “I can’t remember calling for you, Lieutenant Stamets.”

Part of him wanted to blurt out all that he had told Hugh. But something told him, that the captain would not react as kindly as Hugh, as soon as he had reason to belief that his chief engineer had gone insane. He cleared his throat to buy himself some time.

Luckily, at that moment Commander Saru announced, “Captain, the unidentified signal I monitored is right ahead.” 

From that point on, Lorca was too busy captaining to question Stamets’ and Culber’s presence any further. As Burnham explained about the gormagander, Paul felt a little sympathetic to the creature. Its lifestyle reminded him acutely of his own, before he had met Hugh. But now was not the time to reminisce. He had to decide quickly if he wanted to stay on the bridge or make up a reason to follow Burnham welcome the spacewhale. Paul expected that from the bridge it would be easier to keep an eye on what was happening on the entire ship. So he stayed in the background, trying to not pique Lorca’s attention again.

He didn’t have to wait long. There were shots fired in the cargo bay that had just received their giant passenger. The screen showed the security feed and they could see a man in some kind of space suit. It looked like he had shot all personnel in the cargo bay and was now working at a console. 

“Mudd!” Both Lorca and Tyler exclaimed, almost at the same time.

While Lorca used the commsystem to communicate with the intruder, Paul sidled over to Lieutenant Tyler’s workstation.  
“Who is that man?”, he asked with an urgency that seemed to compel the other man to answer.

“Harry Mudd. We shared a cell on the Klingon prison ship.” Tyler worked his console, while he talked. Then he had to give orders to his security teams. But Paul had enough information for now.

Paul didn’t quite get the whole conversation between Mudd and Lorca. It included incredulity on the captain’s side and some bragging from the intruder. Apparently he believed that the Discovery would be his ship soon.

“I don’t have any more time for your questions, Lorca”, Mudd said, sounding almost bored, “I have to find out about the schematics of this ship before it goes boom… again.”

“What?” Lorca was ranting. Paul's mind was racing to try and fit all the pieces of the puzzle together. But he didn't have long after that. Mudd used a device to make the ship explode. This time, at least Paul could hold Hugh’s hand as Tyler read out the decks that had lost containment. He squeezed that hand tight as everything went dark.


	2. The second time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it. This is fast for me. I hope I can keep this up. Beware, it's a lot angstier than the last one.
> 
> CW: panic attack (I guess), medical restraints

The second time:

The second time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets was not prepared. This time when everything went dark around him, he had enough awareness to feel his brush with death. It was like the ground had vanished beneath his feet and he was falling. The worst part though was when Hugh’s fingers simply disappeared from Paul’s grip. He felt empty – inside and out.

And then he was back in sickbay, kissing Hugh, nobody watching them. 

Paul pulled away. For at least a minute he was busy silently thanking whatever gods there could be for this second second chance at saving … everyone. Then his mind started racing again, trying to puzzle out what had happened to him and why. At least now he knew how the ship had been destroyed. Harry Mudd had done it … again.

“Again! He did it again! He said that it would go boom again!” 

Hugh looked at him in alarm. “What are you talking about?”

Paul was too far gone, his mind already going through various scenarios that could prevent the destruction of the ship. He grabbed Hugh’s arm, turned around, and started rushing towards the sickbay doors.

“We need to stop him!”, Paul said impatiently.

“Who?!” Hugh didn’t move. 

“Mudd!” Paul kept pulling on his arm, but it was no use. Hugh stood his ground, like an anchor tied to a kite. He was looking more worried by the second.

“Paul, stop!” Hugh almost yelled. “You’re scaring me!”

Paul froze. A pang of guilt hit him at the horrified look on his husband’s face. It suddenly dawned on him. “You don’t remember.”   
“Don’t remember what?” Hugh was starting to sound hysteric. His tone tore at Paul’s heart. “You’re not making any sense. What’s going on?”

Paul tried to calm down, tried to explain, tried to sound reasonable; he really did. But between his fear, the adrenaline and the ticking clock at the back of his mind all that came out of his mouth was, “We died. All of us. Twice already. And it’ll happen a third time, if I don’t stop Mudd. And I have no idea if I’ll get another chance after that.”

Paul’s face screwed up in despondency. Of course that wasn’t enough. Hugh still looked at him like he’d gone insane. That was probably what the doctor was thinking right now. And it hurt. On top of the desperation and impatience there was still room for pain over the fact that Hugh didn’t believe him, couldn’t believe him. Paul had no idea what to do.

His hesitation gave Hugh enough time to react. He took his medical tricorder and started running scans, his face looking just as confused as Paul remembered it from the last time. They’d been through this before. The whole procedure felt even more redundant to Paul than usual. He shoved Hugh’s hand away hard enough to send the tricorder flying to the floor.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not acting like you’re fine.” Now Hugh was talking to him like Paul was a cornered wild animal about to lash out. “You’re erratic. Your pulse and respiration are rapid; your adrenaline levels high, as if you were facing a fight or flight situation. What you’re telling me makes no sense. You seem paranoid and even violent.” Hugh glanced at to the floor, silently indicating the tricorder.

Paul felt heat rise from his neck to his face. He needed to explain himself, but embarrassment and frustration were choking him. His throat felt like it was caught in a vice. It became harder and harder to breathe and his muscles were so tense that he started trembling. 

Had they been alone, Paul might have been able to calm down and explain to Hugh what was going on. But they had no such luck. Their raised voices and the clatter of the tricorder as it hit the floor had alarmed the other personnel in sickbay. Paul was still unable to speak when two nurses suddenly appeared in his field of vision.

“What’s going on here?” That was the voice of the CMO, coming from right behind him. 

Hugh repeated Paul’s symptoms for her and within seconds both doctors agreed that this had to be an effect of the tardigrade DNA or a strain on Stamtets’ brain chemistry due to the frequent jumps they’d made in the last couple of weeks.

When Paul finally managed to push his panic down enough to speak, it was already too late.

“You don’t understand. I have to go to the bridge. I have to…”

The CMO cut him off. “You have to stay in sickbay for some tests. Doctor’s orders.” She was unnervingly calm and assertive. Her face didn’t betray any worry; her professional mask was flawless as she turned to Hugh. “Comm the captain. He needs to know that something’s wrong with Lieutenant Stamets. Otherwise he might get it in his head to use the spore drive right now.”

She nodded at the two nurses and they grabbed Paul, trying to lead him to the nearest biobed. Realising what this meant, he started struggling. But they were strong and fast. It took them only a few practiced moves to strap him to the bed. 

The panic rose back up in Paul, seemingly burning his body from the inside. Somewhere behind the blur of people around him he could see Hugh’s face. It was tight with pain and worry. For a moment Paul wondered what was worse – that look on his husband’s face or the fact that in a few minutes he’d have to watch him die again. 

In a last desperate attempt he cried out to Hugh. “Tell the captain that it’s the gormagander. Harry Mudd somehow comes onto the ship with the gormagander. Tell him to not beam it aboard.” Hugh turned away, hurrying to the next comm panel. Paul had no idea if his husband had believed him.

Suddenly the yellow alert sounded, giving Paul an idea of how far along they were in this time loop. The noise only fuelled his panic and words started streaming from his lips. He tried to explain what was happening, he tried to reason with the CMO, the nurses, anyone, he called for Hugh, he struggled against his restraints. When nothing worked, Paul started sobbing uncontrollably, his words reduced to gibberish, his vision blurred by tears. Just as the red alert started blaring through sickbay, Paul felt a prick at his neck and heard the hiss of a hypospray.

First his whole body went slack like an inflatable toy that was losing all its air. Then his vision grew hazy and the chaotic sounds around him seemed to be moving further and further away. For a moment Paul tried to fight the sedative. But as his eyelids grew heavier, he knew that it was pointless. There was no time left anyway. This time, at least he wouldn’t have to watch them all die. That was Paul’s last conscious thought, before darkness covered him like a warm heavy blanket.


	3. The third time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was supposed to be fluffy, but it somehow turned into angst while I was writing. It IS fluffier than the last one, but we're still far from the happy ending.
> 
> CW: blood

The third time:

The third time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets took some time to think. Since he had been sedated the last time the ship was destroyed, coming back felt just like waking up. And waking up to the feeling of Hugh’s lips softly pressed against his, was exactly what he needed after the disaster that had been the last time loop. Paul took a moment to deepen the kiss, his tongue gently caressing Hugh’s lips. He enjoyed the calm before the storm, taking in every bit of his husband’s affection as if it were the fuel to propel him through the next thirty minutes.

When they pulled apart, Hugh was smiling dreamily. Paul could barely contain his own grin. He tried to replace the memory of Hugh’s horrified look with this one. It almost worked.

“What was that for?”, Hugh asked, his voice sweet as honey.

“Because I love you.” Paul pulled up his eyebrows in an isn’t-that-obvious-look. “Because you’re here. That’s enough, right?”

As always these days there was an edge of worry to Hugh’s expression. He wasn’t used to compliments and declarations of love being hurled at him out of nowhere. It was still strange for him to be adored so briskly. And he didn’t quite trust the idea that this change could be benign. But the happiness shone brighter in his face than any doubts.

That only made Paul feel guiltier about what he had to do next.

“Oh, Hugh, I just remembered something. I started a time sensitive experiment this morning and I completely forgot about it.” Paul wasn’t a good liar. Most of his problems arose from the fact that he had an over-affinity to blurting out the truth however he saw it. But Hugh trusted him and he didn’t know there could be a reason for the mycologist to lie. “I have to go and take some readings, like, right now. Can you finish this without me?” He tried to look apologetic.

“Sure. No problem.” Hugh was still all placid from the kiss.

Paul felt acutely wrong because this was so easy. Nothing about lying to his husband should ever be easy. But for now it was the best course of action he could come up with. So he turned around with a smile and a wave, befitting his new overexcited self. 

As soon as Paul stepped out of sickbay, a weight the size of a spaceship tumbled off his shoulders. He hadn’t even realised how much the memories of the last timeloop were still holding him in a tight grip. He could breathe a bit easier now.

But what to do next? His first impulse had been to make his way to the bridge. But the further he walked, the more time he had to think that through. It was a stupid idea. Paul could very vividly imagine his fate, should he storm onto the bridge, telling Lorca to not beam up the gormagander, because that would lead to the destruction of the ship. Lorca would haul his ass back to sickbay faster than he could even say “timeloop” or “spacewhale” or “Harry Mudd”.

Paul slowed down in order to think this through, but still headed for the turbolift that would take him to the bridge. It was painfully clear to him, what trouble not thinking it through could land him in … again. 

His next idea was to go to the cargo bay that was about to harbour the giant spacewhale. But he’d only seen the events there unfold once more or less from the corner of his eye on a screen that only offered a small glimpse of the real action. The chances that Mudd would do something unexpected and manage to just shoot Paul were too high to risk it. And even if he didn’t get himself killed, Mudd could still notice him; notice that something about the scene had changed.

It seemed like Harry Mudd, just like Paul, could remember exactly what had happened the first time he’d entered the Discovery. So Paul was sure this was some kind of plan that built on Mudd finding out more and more about the ship and then jumping back in time to use that new knowledge somehow. It would explain why he would execute this heist more than once. In addition Mudd had to know that nobody but him could remember that and how it all had happened before. That would explain why he felt free to brag to Lorca about the fact that he was accessing the ship’s schematics.

Knowing that, it was safe to assume that Mudd would notice if the crew at large started behaving wildly different from how they’d reacted in the last loops. That meant that Paul had to be careful not to be found out. As long as Mudd didn’t know that there was someone on the ship who knew about him, who was working against him, he’d remain overconfident and might show his hand while bragging. 

So going to the cargobay was out of the question because it could tip Mudd off.

Still on his way to the turbolift, Paul took a moment to contemplate how he’d earned the dubious perk of remembering everything even though they jumped back in time. He was pretty sure it was due to the tardigrade DNA. The mycelium connected all of spacetime. To travel it the tardigrade had to exist in dimensions that were outside of the human experience. Being augmented with its DNA Paul seemingly existed in a separate dimension of spacetime as well. He stored this cool little titbit of information away for a later time. He’d study it if – no – when he was done with Harry Mudd. 

Right now Paul had to concentrate on his limited options. Since he couldn’t fight Mudd outright, he figured that the best strategy would be to find out as much as possible about his plan. Knowledge was power. If he knew what exactly Mudd wanted, there had to be a way to stop him. 

This time Paul didn’t even entertain the thought of asking Lorca for information. It would be rather difficult to explain why he wanted to know more about that guy, who’d seemingly shared Lorca’s prison cell, but hadn’t been mentioned in his reports of the incident – at least not as far as Paul knew. 

Who would have thought that the ongoing animosity between him and his captain would become quite so inconvenient at some point? Well, Hugh had thought so. Of course in his worrying he’d foreseen that nothing good could ever come off Paul butting heads with Lorca on a weekly basis. Still, he had only loved Paul more because he insisted on his values and wouldn’t be cowed by their callous captain.

The only person apart from Lorca who could know something about Mudd was Tyler – their new chief of security. Paul didn’t know the man very well, but he already liked him better than Lorca. The fact that Burnham seemed to see something in him was promising too. Apart from that Tyler had spent more time on the prison ship with Mudd and thus knew more that could be of use.

Paul finally reached the turbolift. He checked his communicator for the time and realised that he didn’t even know exactly when he and Hugh had come to this junction the last two times. From now on he would have to pay more attention to when exactly what was happening.

Luckily was early, because Burnham and Tyler were just rounding a corner of the corridor leading towards him. Perfect. Now he only needed to figure out a way to get that that man he didn’t really know to tell him about Mudd. 

“Burnham!”, he called for her and waved them over, a bright smile on his face, trying to act natural. Then he looked up at Tyler. “Would you care to introduce me to your very tall companion?” 

Paul had a feeling that making the connection through Burnham would be easier somehow. There was something about the way Tyler had looked at her teasingly the first time they’d collided. Paul knew what interest looked like in a man. What he hadn’t been able to place was the way Burnham had reacted to him. She had gone stiff as a board as soon as Tyler had looked at her with that teasing smile. A reaction nobody else had elicited from her so far.

Burnham looked embarrassed right now, but obediently made her way over to Paul. Tyler remained slightly behind her. “Lieutenant Stamets. I thought you’d met Lieutenant Ash Tyler – our new Chief of Security.” 

“Not in person”, Paul replied trying not to overact his excitement too much. But then again, if Hugh was to be believed, he had seemed overtly excited to everyone ever since he’d been able to pilot the spore drive. He enthusiastically took Tyler’s hand and shook it. “I have only heard of your great deeds when you saved our captain and escaped the Klingon prison ship.”

Tyler looked a bit taken aback, but tried to play nice. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Well, maybe you feel like enlightening me. How did you manage to escape from that prison ship? Did you and Lorca have help? Another prisoner maybe?”

That question set off something in Tyler. His posture had gone from wary and slightly embarrassed to tense as a bowstring in less than a second. If possible he looked even more put out than he had on the bridge when he’d seen Mudd himself two loops ago.

“Why would you say that?” Tyler’s voice was razor sharp. “Did Lorca set you up to this?” His eyes flashed dangerously, but Paul couldn’t identify the feeling behind it.

With the chief of security looking at him like that Paul felt like he’d locked himself in a cage with a tiger. Normally Hugh was there to stop him before he got this far. Or he was there to help defuse situations such as this one. On his own the mycologist could only blink in confusion.

At that point Burnham – bless her – cleared her throat, reclaiming Tyler’s attention. “I’m sure Lieutenant Stamets is the last person Captain Lorca would set up to do anything for him.” She said it in a neutral tone, obviously not taking sides in the matter

“I’m sorry”, Paul added quickly, “It certainly wasn’t my intention to rub salt into any wounds. My dear husband diagnosed me with foot-in-mouth disease long ago.” He held his hands up and gave a self-deprecating laugh.

It wasn’t really funny, especially since Paul wasn’t sure if Tyler knew that his husband was a doctor. But it was enough to make Tyler relax a little. 

Luckily Burnham took it from there. Who knows what else he would have gotten himself into? She said, “Lieutenant Stamets. I’m sorry, but we have no time to talk now anyway. The captain is expecting us on the bridge.” With that she called for the turbolift.

“Why were you called? Whatever needs the attention of our resident science specialist and our chief of security might be interesting.”

“We don’t know either,” Tyler answered, still looking suspicious. At that moment the turbolift doors opened. The lieutenant stepped in, shortly followed by Burnham.

“Well then, we better find out,” Stamets said as he stepped onto the turbolift just before the doors whooshed closed again. 

That might have been the most awkward turbolift ride of Paul’s life. But knowing that the others would have forgotten about in less than thirty minutes made it more bearable. He was also on a mission to get as much information as possible to help him in the next loop. So he had to grit his teeth and get to it.

“So what have the two of you been up to before the captain summoned you?”, Paul asked as nonchalantly as his previous misadventure allowed.

“Nothing!”, was Burnham’s hasty reply. As both Paul and Tyler looked at her in surprise, she amended, “We weren’t doing anything together, just the two of us, I mean. It’s just, that both of us were at the party in the mess hall. So I figured we could go to the bridge together.”

Paul stored that information at the back of his mind for later. Tyler gave Burnham a teasing look.

“Of course. Specialist Burnham had no intention of doing anything inappropriate.”

It looked like Burnham was blushing and for a moment Paul forgot his mission and the gravity of the situation. “What does he mean by that?”, he asked Burnham. Then he looked over to Tyler, whose features had relaxed a great deal. He looked impish in an attempt to hide his grin. 

At that moment the turbolift reached the bridge, and Lieutenant Tyler walked over to his station. 

“I don’t remember calling you to the bridge, Stamets”, Lorca said without his usual derision. His hostilities towards Paul had been half-hearted at best ever since the chief engineer had become the key ingredient that made the spore drive work.

“I was just curious what it is that requires your security chief and a science specialist on the bridge.” The lie came easier to him, because he’d already told it before. He also didn’t feel much remorse for lying to Lorca. “Do you order me to leave?”, he continued, giving the captain his most innocent look.

Lorca pulled up his eyebrows, but gave a slight shake of the head. Then all his attention was on the gormagander and Paul saw history repeating. 

But all of time stopped around Paul as the viewscreen showed the security feet from the cargobay. Harry Mudd was shooting, and crewmembers were hitting the floor. One of them was wearing a medical uniform – its crisp white a contrast against the warmth of brown skin. That white turned to red as Hugh crashed against a console and started bleeding from a head wound. 

From then on everything was a blur.

Later Paul would remember that he’d heard an exchange between the ops-officer and Lorca. “There are four casualties.” “Transport them directly to sickbay.” “It doesn’t work, captain. The system is blocked. The computer isn’t reacting to our commands.” At that moment there was no room in his mind. All of it was occupied by the vision of Hugh lying on the floor, bleeding and alone.

That vision pushed him forward, made him run into the turbolift, made him run down seemingly endless corridors, made him go faster even though he could barely pull air into his lungs. He was drowning on his feet. Somewhere deep down he knew that this didn’t make much sense, that all of them would die within a few minutes anyway. But everything inside him screamed that every second Hugh was without him, was too long.

When he reached his destination, Mudd was gone already. Paul was only able to surmise that because he hadn’t been shot upon entering. His eyes were on Hugh like nothing else existed around them.

Paul kneeled down next to his husband. Despite the head wound Hugh was awake, looking at him in relief and astonishment.

“Are you ok?”

Paul had to laugh at the absurdity of Hugh’s question. “You’re the one bleeding on the floor, Hugh.” He took Hugh’s hand, holding on tight. He could feel the tears rolling down his face as Hugh squeezed his fingers reassuringly. “It’s my turn to worry about you for once.”

Hugh smiled at that. Somehow he managed to look serene among all the mayhem and blood. As if knowing that Paul was alright and there was all he could ever need.

Paul carefully lifted Hugh’s hand and pressed soft kisses to each of his knuckles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.”

“Don’t leave me like this.” 

Hugh tried to brush his tears away, but Paul’s cheeks were already hopelessly wet. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, Paul. I love you.” How could Hugh be so calm?

“I can fix this, Hugh. Do you hear me? I’ll fix this.” The panic Paul knew so well crept his throat again. But Hugh’s hand squeezing his was enough to keep him grounded.

“I know.” Paul wished he had a fraction of that confidence. Hugh gave him his warmest smile, all white teeth and cute dimples; its beauty shone brighter than the blood for a second. “No need to ramble, babe, I believe you.”

This time Paul was holding on to his husband’s hand for dear life – receiving as much solace as he was giving. He was still sitting like that as the Discovery exploded around them for the fourth time.


	4. The fourth time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter I had to write Harry Mudd and I think I failed. But it's still cool.
> 
> This chapter was fuelled by this playlist: https://humanthyla.tumblr.com/post/167105034883/i-want-to-wrap-all-the-stars-and-give-them-to
> 
> CW: death, blood, injuries, torture

The fourth time:

The fourth time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets vowed that he would protect Hugh. The feeling of falling and then landing against Hugh’s lips plunged him into vertigo. He wanted to stay in this moment forever – this perfect magical moment where Hugh was fine and safe by his side. 

Paul didn’t open his eyes. Instead he held on to the doctor’s arms. He needed to steady himself. The image of Hugh bleeding on the floor was still edged onto the insides of his eyelids. He could feel that his cheeks were wet, though he didn’t know when he’d started crying.

Hugh pulled away, as the tears touched his cheeks as well. He sucked in a loud breath.

“Paul? What is it? Are you alright?”

No, of course he wasn’t alright. Paul wanted to laugh at the absurd understatement. But hysterics would only get him strapped to a biobed again. So he tried to swallow the laughter and the bitterness. Hugh was here. That was good. He needed to calm down.

After a few steadying breaths Paul felt sober enough to speak. “I know this will be hard to believe. And I know you’re worried, but I need you to let me finish talking.” He finally dared to open his eyes. There was concern on Hugh’s face, but he gave him a brisk nod to indicate that he would comply. Hugh was exuding the professional calm of a doctor and for once Paul found that quite reassuring.

“We are caught in a timeloop. I’ve already experienced the next thirty-odd minutes four times, but I’m the only one who can remember any of it. Everyone else is unaware. And yes, it has to do with the tardigrade DNA, but it’s not causing hallucinations or brain damage or anything. It just lets me remember because I somehow exist outside of the normal timeline.”

Paul could see the doctor’s lips twitch a few times as if he was about to speak. But Hugh didn’t interrupt. He only nodded again to show that he’d understood everything so far. Hugh probably didn’t believe a word of it, but at least he was willing to go on listening.

“And this timeloop is not a random occurrence. It is caused by a man named Harry Mudd. I don’t know how he manages to turn back time, but he is doing it because he wants to take over the ship. He has some grievance against Lorca. They met on that Klingon prison ship.”

Paul was really proud that he’d managed to get all of that out calmly and controlled – well, if you didn’t count the fact that there were still tears running down his face. At least his crying had slowed down a bit. When Hugh raised his eyebrows in a silent question, Paul nodded. He was done with his part.

“Why are you crying, Paul?” Hugh’s voice was impossibly soft, but there was an assertive strength to it as well.

Of course, Hugh wouldn’t really be interested in anything else. 

Paul had to look away, before he could answer. “Up to now every loop ended with the ship being destroyed. All of us die, but nobody apart from me knows it.”

“That’s not all, babe, is it?” Hugh’s tone didn’t leave Paul any room to ignore the question.

“You got hurt. I left you in sickbay without telling you what was going on, because that seemed like the easiest solution. And that action somehow landed you in the line of fire. You got hurt. And you were lying on the floor, bleeding, alone. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t…”

“You couldn’t save me.” It wasn’t a question or an epiphany, just a fact – inescapable. Paul had to look back at Hugh. In those warm brown eyes he could see no disbelief or accusation – only love and understanding. He had no idea how he deserved this man.

Hugh took Paul’s hands and pulled him close, encasing him in a hug that felt blessedly solid.

“I’m here now. I’m alright. I’m safe.” And for some reason that was all Paul needed to hear. He leaned into Hugh’s solid presence for a moment and just breathed. 

He didn’t allow himself to revel in the moment for too long though. Paul pulled away slowly, and looked at Hugh with some gravitas. 

“As much as I would love to stay right here in your arms for the next twenty-seven minutes, I can’t. I have to try and save the ship again.” 

He had expected Hugh to argue, but all he said was, “How can I help?”

Paul’s eyes were wide with surprise. But he recovered quickly, suggesting, “You could promise me to stay right here and be safe.”

Hugh didn’t even have to say “no”. He sold that with a look. In turn, he probably expected Paul to argue, but Paul knew an unwinnable fight when he saw it. So the mycologist just nodded in defeat.

“Maybe you can help me with Tyler.”

“Our new chief of security?”

“Yeah. He shared a prison cell with Harry Mudd, so I thought he might be our best bet to get some information on him. Sadly, I seem to be very good at offending him. Last time I tried to ask him about Mudd, he probably would have killed me if it hadn’t been for Burnham.”

“Well, remind me to thank her then.” Hugh smiled and Paul was grateful for his attempt at casual banter. It was an integral part of their relationship. And in tumultuous times like these it served to make both of them feel at home in the familiar, safe. “I believe you said the issue was time sensitive. So I guess we should hurry. Where do we find Lieutenant Tyler?”

So Paul grabbed Hugh’s hand and off they went to the party in the mess hall. He could explain all the specifics on their way there. As they arrived at the party though, Tyler was nowhere to be seen. Paul found Tilly – the red hair always made her easy to spot. But all she could tell him was that Tyler and Burnham had been called to the bridge.

Paul felt like crying again. He knew that as soon as Tyler was on the bridge, it was almost impossible to get a moment to speak to him. He punched a bulkhead in frustration, only to receive a chiding look from his dear doctor. This loop felt kind of lost anyway. So Paul wondered for a split second if he should just grab Hugh and dance with him until it was over. It didn’t feel like a bad idea at all.

Before he could act on it, Hugh had already taken his hand though. Instead of towards the dancefloor he pulled Paul out of the mess hall. 

As they stood in the corridor, Hugh asked, “So should we follow them to the bridge?”

“No. We can’t really talk to Tyler there and you can imagine how Lorca, Saru and the crew in general will react to me telling them we’re in a timeloop.”

“Okay. So what else can we do? What comes next?” The way Hugh threw himself into this task was enough to give Paul new hope. Maybe this loop wasn’t lost completely.

“Well, the next important place is the shuttle bay where they’ll transport the gormagander.”

“So that’s where we should go?” Hugh didn’t even wait for an answer. He was already hurrying in the direction of the turbolift.

“No!” Paul had to follow a few steps before he could take hold of his husband’s arm. Hugh turned around and gave him a questioning look. “That’s where you got hurt the last time.”

A wave of understanding flashed over Hugh’s face. Still, he continued walking, again using his superior strength to pull Paul along. And Paul did walk along, not ready to let go of Hugh’s arm yet.

“This time you’re with me. You know what’ll happen and how it’ll happen. You will keep me safe.” And there it was again. That absolute confidence. Oh how Paul wished he could have some of it. But there was no way to stop Hugh. So he went along because that was safer than letting him go alone at least. 

When they reached the shuttle bay, Burnham was already there, taking readings of the gormagander. Paul wished for a phaser, but he had to settle for a console at the entrance of the bay, that he and Hugh crouched behind. That earned them an irritated look from the medical officer in the room. But then all attention focussed on Burnham.

“I got some strange readings. They’re faint but it looks like a transporter signal.”

Paul used that distraction to turn around and pull Hugh outside with him. As soon as they were alone in a corridor, he stopped.

“Shit! Shit shit shit! He has control of the transporter. Of course! That’s why you couldn’t be transported to sickbay during the last loop.” 

“You mean, he hacked the ship’s computer? And now he can access our systems? That’s bad.”

“It’s horrible. Right now Mudd could be anywhere on this ship. And if he controls the system, he won’t trigger any alerts. And he could easily kill the surveillance equipment too. So I’ll probably spend the next few loops just trying to find out where the hell he is.” For the third time in less than thirty minutes Paul felt like crying. Every little progress he’d made in the last loops felt pointless now.

“Hey!” Hugh patted his shoulder encouragingly. “It’s not over yet. We still have some time left. Use that brilliant head of yours and think!”

Paul looked at him in disbelief. Yes he was brilliant, but people were nothing like mushrooms. They were a lot more complicated. He’d learned that early on.

Since Paul didn’t say anything, Hugh continued, “This Mudd character wants to take over the ship, right? What does he want with it?”

“I think he wants to sell it to the Klingons. He bragged about selling it to Lorca’s enemies.”

“That’s helpful. The Klingons wouldn’t want the Discovery if it were any other ship. They want her because her spore drive could win us the war. They just don’t know what it is that makes this ship so special. So Mudd will try to find out.”

“And he said he downloaded the ship’s schematics.”

“He’ll look at those and probably check the first place that looks different from other ships.”

“Engineering!”

“Your lab with the spore drive. Exactly.”

Paul was excited as they hurried in the direction of Engineering. This whole ordeal seemed a lot easier with Hugh by his side. 

“Paul, how do we get in? He probably disabled all our overrides, right?” Hugh was on fire. Paul looked over to him, his eyes brimming with pride. Oh, what luck to be in love with a genius.

“In that case there are a jeffreys tube or two he can’t lock so easily. I know my way around engineering.” 

So Paul changed directions and shortly after stopped at a wall panel that led into one of the small crawl ways. He had just opened it when they heard the calm voice of the computer say, “Lieutenant Paul Stamets, please report to engineering.”

They looked at each other in confusion. Hugh was the first to understand. And his look said “Do this and I’m filing for divorce!” just as loud and clear as it had when Saru had ordered Paul to kill the tardigrade if necessary.

“I have to go.” Paul didn’t give Hugh time to start a tirade about his safety. “If I don’t go now he’ll just call for me again in another loop. And if I never show up, he’ll just get suspicious. I cannot let him find out that one crewmember can remember what’s going on.”

Hugh still didn’t look convinced. But he seemed to accept that there was no time to argue. “Tell me how to get to engineering through the jeffreys tube.”

“Oh no! You’re staying right here where you’re safe!” Paul almost screeched in horror.

Hugh gave him a look that said “Really?” then he said, “Pot kettle! If you’re going I’m going. I’ll stay out of sight if possible. But if you need help, I want to be there.”

Paul screwed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before he gave Hugh directions. Then he made his way to engineering himself, using the corridors.

The doors opened for Paul before he could even try to enter his code. And they closed with a click that sounded final as soon as he had entered. Paul swallowed hard as he saw his colleagues Mustafi and Larson on the floor in front of their consoles. The blood surrounding their bodies suggested that they were dead rather than stunned. No wonder Mudd needed him for information if he’d already killed his lab workers.

Just right of the door lay a dead security officer. Her phaser had skidded away and Paul leaned down to reach for it as a voice came from the other end of the room.

“Ah ah.” When Paul looked up, he saw Mudd pointing a gun at him. It looked like a disruptor, but he wasn’t sure. Mudd used it to wave Paul over to him. He went with a last yearning look at the phaser on the floor.

“Lieutenant Stamets , I assume. Chief engineer?” Mudd sounded as full of himself as he had when talking to the captain. 

“That’s me, yeah.” Paul remained friendly because he really didn’t fancy being shot. “How can I help you?”

“As chief engineer you should know how this ship works. So explain it to me.” He gestured at the spore drive with the gun. As Paul took a closer look, he noticed that the drive was running. Of course it wasn’t going anywhere without him strapped into his chamber. But the engines could still overload and destroy the ship. Shit.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Mr… “

“Harcourt Fenton Mudd! Let’s see if I can change your mind, Lieutenant. Computer, arm self-destruct.”

“Self-destruct is armed.”

“You don’t want me to blow up your precious little ship and all of its crew, right?” Mudd was sporting a wide grin and Paul would pay good money if he could just go over there and punch it off his face.

Instead, he smiled sweetly and said, “You’re overloading the drive. The ship is going to explode anyway. So go ahead. The faster you make everything go boom, the less time I have to waste talking to you.” That worked to wipe the grin off Mudd’s face too.

So much for playing nice, Paul thought as a shot hit his left shoulder. It hurt like hell, but at least he wasn’t disintegrating so it wasn’t a Klingon disruptor in Mudd’s hand. He was still shocked from the pain when Mudd came over and grabbed him by his hair. There was nothing Paul could do, but follow as he was pulled over to the other side of the lab.

Mudd held Paul’s head in front of the door mechanism and ripped at his hair until he gave a shudder. The mechanism accepted his breath sample and gave way to the airponics bay holding Paul’s mushrooms. 

“Now what the hell is this?” Mudd looked around, amazed and confused. He pulled Paul to the middle of the room before he let go of his hair. Paul had tears in his eyes; his scalp was burning.

“They are mushrooms”, Paul said, trying to look unfazed, but probably unsuccessful.

“What do you need mushrooms for on a spaceship?” Mudds confusion had not lifted.

“Oh, they’re just a hobby of mine.” Ignoring the pain in his shoulder and his scalp Paul tried to sound nonchalant. “I love mushrooms so I took them on the ship with me.”

“Lieutenant Stamets, you don’t want to mess with me.” Mudd started to sound angry again.

“Oh, I’m not messing with you. Not at all. I really do love mushrooms. They are so interesting. Did you know that the armarillya ostoyae covers an area of 2,384 acres of soil in one place on earth? It’s really huge. That’s fascinating, isn’t it?” Paul did, what came easiest to him, spurting out random facts. Anything was better than telling Mudd how the spore drive worked.

“I’m warning you. I’m losing my patience.” Mudd was definitely sounding angry now.

Paul stealed himself for another shot as he said, “Well, that was fast. Do you know what else is really fast? Mushrooms as they grow. As soon as they’re out of the ground they grow double their size in 24 hours. Aaaaaaah!”

Mudd had shot him in the leg this time. Paul fell to the ground. Piloting the spore drive had gotten him used to a fair amount of pain, but this was different. Right now he didn’t have a connection to all of space distracting him from the pain. Still, it wasn’t nearly enough to make him break.

“Did you know that mushrooms have their own immune system?” 

Harry Mudd stepped onto the wound in his leg. Paul screamed in agony. With a bit of luck he’d pass out until the end of the loop. He wished for that very much.

Mudd took his foot away. “Now tell me…”

There was a hissing noise and then Mudd fell over with a thud. 

Right there behind him stood Hugh, holding a phaser in a shaking hand. 

“He left the door open”, was all Hugh could say. His eyes were wide. He looked more shocked than Paul felt. 

“You killed him.” Paul stammered when his eyes settled on the red light glowing on the phaser. He’d never thought Hugh would be capable of killing anyone – not even a low-life like Mudd.

“He hurt you.” Hugh said it as if it was all the explanation needed. Then he let the weapon sink and it fell to the floor with some clatter.

He was at Paul’s side in an instant. There wasn’t much Hugh could do without his medical equipment. Still, just his presence seemed to diminish Paul’s pain by the thousands. Hugh helped him to sit up and sat down behind him so that Paul could lean back against his strong chest. 

“Is the timeloop over now that he’s … dead?”, Hugh asked, his face buried in Paul’s neck. Obviously he couldn’t believe either that he’d just killed a man

Hugh held on to Paul as if he was drowning and Paul was his lifeline. Somehow he managed not to aggravate any of his wounds. His dear doctor was good like that. And while the tight embrace seemed to be mostly for Hugh’s benefit, it gave Paul just as much comfort.

“I don’t know. We’ll see in a minute or so I guess.” 

In that moment Paul remembered the overloading spore drive. He sighed in defeat and let his head fall back against Hugh’s shoulder. It had all been for nothing, they’d die in a minute anyway.

Paul reached for Hugh’s hands and interlinked their fingers. “No matter what happens, you did everything right. You saved me. And I love you.” Tears were staining his face again as the explosion spread from engineering through the whole ship.


	5. The twentieth time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's true hurt and comfort, angst and fluff. 
> 
> CW: trauma

The fifth to twentieth times:

The fifth time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets was positively surprised that he wasn’t dead. He was also able to extrapolate from that experience that it was actually the destruction of the ship that reset the timeloop. So there was not much point in killing Mudd since he’d probably organise some way to destroy the ship first thing he came aboard.

After that loop everything became a bit blurry. One loop started to bleed into the next – a normal side effect of the same things happening over and over again, Paul expected.

In between all the things he had to do and look out for Paul took some moments to reflect on the effects the temporal loop was having on him. Some things got easier as they kept happening over and over. Each time it hurt less to see the whole crew die around him. Paul wasn’t sure if that was a good thing though. It felt like he was slowly losing his humanity.

Other things would never get easier, he thought. It was still hard to tell this outrageous story to Hugh, to somehow make him believe that he wasn’t going insane – especially since, as time went on, Paul was less and less sure about that one himself. Every time Hugh looked at him in disbelief and worry was painful. And no matter how often it happened, Paul never felt prepared for that particular kind of pain.

On the whole, it was maddening to explain himself over and over again – to Hugh, to other doctors, to Tyler, even to Lorca once or twice. Going through the same motions again and again wouldn’t have been all that bad. It reminded Paul a lot of playing antique video games as a child. When he was around eight, he’d spent hours and hours playing some very old very difficult games. He remembered with fond nostalgia how he had to go through the same passages about a hundred times – his space-suited lady character dying one pointless death after the other – before he got everything right for once and could finally progress to the next stage.

Real life was far more difficult though. Unlike the opponents in a game, people tended to act wildly different if you told them the same thing in a slightly different manner – with tears in your eyes, cackling like a maniac, loud, increasingly annoyed. All of those minor differences in his own attitude could acutely change the outcome of a situation. 

Somewhere on the way between timeloop six and twenty-one Paul had lost most of his patience and maybe a bit of his mind too.

So when in the twenty-first timeloop he tried to explain the situation to Hugh and it didn’t quite work the way he wanted it to, something inside Paul snapped like a rubber band stretched way past its limit. 

“I can’t do this again!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm enough not to alert the other doctors. “Hugh, I’m fine. I need you to stop worrying. Stop doctoring. Just believe me that I’m alright and I need to go right now.”

Hugh was taking a breath, obviously ready to give Paul a lecture on how much right he had to worry about him. But Paul didn’t give him a chance to start his tirade. He just turned on the spot and ran out of sickbay. There was no more time to waste if he wanted to catch Tyler before he reached the bridge. Maybe this time he’d find the right words to make the chief of security believe him and tell him something about Mudd.

After his swift escape from sickbay a look on his communicator told Paul that it was already too late to catch Tyler at the party. So he ran to the turbolift, hoping against hope that Hugh wouldn’t follow him.

He reached Tyler and Burnham just before they could enter the turbolift. 

“You need to listen to me! There isn’t any time. Or rather there is time – too much time.” Yeah great. Getting himself confused about semantics would totally help him sound believable. Paul could have kicked himself.

For the second time in this loop people were looking at him like he was batshit crazy. Unbelievable! Paul just lost it. He had no shred of patience left for this. Just as he had started yelling at Burnham, Hugh was there, and for once that didn’t calm Paul one bit. He already felt like he was struggling against the straps of a biobed again.

But Hugh only touched his arm, probably trying to ground him. Right now it was enough to almost make Paul jump out of his skin.

“You’re ranting.” Hugh looked somewhere right in the middle between worried out of his mind and embarrassed as hell. 

That only fuelled Paul’s frustration. He had been doing his best to save all of them over and over and over again – and here they were, looking at him like he had gone mad and the worst thing about that was their own discomfort with his insanity. So he kept yelling without giving the words much thought. He just let them tumble from his mouth because his anger needed to go somewhere.

In short order Hugh pushed him away from Burnham and started moving him back in the direction of sickbay. Paul tried to plant his feet, to resist. It was useless against Hugh’s superior strength and professional posture though. So Paul shouted over his husband’s head. Maybe they would understand. Maybe it would help at least a bit.

“It all starts with a gormagander. A gormagander!”

As the turbolift doors closed, Paul deflated instantly. There was nothing left for him to do right here and right now so he might as well face the music. He looked at Hugh in defeat – waiting for a lecture on embarrassing him in public, waiting to be called mad and paranoid and aggressive, waiting to be dragged to sickbay.

Instead, Hugh only looked like somebody had just ripped his heart out. 

Paul blinked a few times in confusion, wondering why he was still standing in this corridor and not lying in sickbay, pinned down by a nurse or two.

“Paul!” The edge of pain in Hugh’s voice finally snapped him out of it. “Why are you looking at me like you’re afraid of me?” 

Paul came back to himself enough to realise that there were tears in Hugh’s eyes. And he’d put them there. He didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d put them there. And he had no idea how to fix it either.

Hugh took a step back. 

“Don’t!” Paul reached for his hands, clasping Hugh’s fingers tentatively. 

“I’m just giving you space.” Hugh desperately tried to be all doctor. But his breaking voice and the desperate look on his face was all husband, all human. “I won’t hurt you. I never wanna hurt you, Paul. And I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to.”

Paul exhaled and with the air he let go of his fears. “I believe you.” He tried to smile encouragingly, but it turned into a grimace. There were still too many complicated emotions right beneath the surface. But at least he wasn’t driven by blind panic anymore.

“What’s going on?” Hugh took a few deep breaths too and slowly dared to tighten his hold on Paul’s fingers.

“As I said, we’ve been here before. We’re going through the same things again and again and apart from me nobody ever remembers.” Paul didn’t sound hysteric this time – only tired. “And so when I tell you about it you, think I’m insane. The first time you thought that, your colleagues in sickbay had me strapped to a biobed and sedated.”

“Oh, Paul!” Hugh’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

“It wasn’t your fault. I know that. You did what was logical in that situation and so did the CMO. Still, it was …”

“Traumatic?”

Paul nodded. Hugh let go of him in order to hide his face in his hands. Paul was sure he’d never seen his husband so despondent. 

“Hey”, Paul said, using his index finger to lift Hugh’s chin again. “There’s something you can do to make it better, my dear doctor.” 

That got Hugh’s attention. “What?”, he asked, looking hopeful.

This time Paul managed a smile, because it was just too cute how predictable his lover could be. “You can hold me.”

He was barely finished uttering the sentence when Hugh was already wrapped around him like an octopus. Normally, when he was clingy like that – especially in public – Paul would put up some token resistance before he grumpily accepted the affection. This time though, he melted into his lover’s embrace instantly, really relaxing for the first time in at least five hours. Paul made a mental note to relax and calm down every few loops. If he didn’t, he would really go insane, sooner or later.

As they stood there, Paul didn’t care about the other crewmembers that were in the corridor – and probably staring since they’d started this argument. Right this moment, Hugh was his whole world. He was surrounded by his husband’s warmth. He was breathing in his smell. And he could feel the doctor’s heartbeat against his own chest.

Both of them jumped as the black alert sounded through the ship. 

Hugh let go, but only hesitantly. He gave Paul a questioning look. Paul fought hard to not blurt out “Look! I told you so.” Instead he said, “That’s Mudd trying to find out how the spore drive works.” 

He was about to walk off to engineering when Hugh stopped him with a light tap on the shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Listen, Hugh, you’re not going to like this, but I have to go to engineering. When I kill Mudd before the loop is over, he has less time to figure out the spore drive.” The doctor didn’t look convinced, but he had said he wouldn’t force Paul to do anything. So he couldn’t really stop him either. Hugh took a breath, ready to make his demands, instead. But Paul beat him to it. “And no, you’re not coming with me. I already got you hurt once. That’s not happening again. If you want to help me, you’ll go to sickbay and stay there so that I don’t have to worry about you and can concentrate on Mudd.”

Hugh didn’t look happy, but obviously he had been cut to the quick by Paul’s emotional outburst earlier. So he gave in with a look that said, “But you be careful!” Paul smiled in relief and pulled Hugh close for a fast kiss. Then they went in opposite directions.

This time Paul took the jeffreys tubes to engineering. After being shot for the first time, Mudd had started surrounding himself by a containment field in one corner of the room. Paul hoped he would get lucky and the crawl way he was in would deposit him right within Mudd’s little safe haven but out of his line of sight. 

When he reached engineering, everything was as he’d expected it except for one thing. This time Tyler wasn’t alone as he shouted at Mudd. This time Burnham was standing next to him. The change was enough to pique Paul’s interest. So he let the scene continue for a moment instead of shooting Mudd right away.

“Tyler, you know this man?”, Burnham asked

“He was my cellmate.” Tyler sounded tense, but that was more information he’d ever shared with Paul in any but the second timeloop. 

The mycologist was stunned at the ease with which Burnham could elicit information from their tight-lipped security officer. So that was their deal, he thought. Suddenly there were a million new possibilities for him to try out in the next loops.

At that moment Mudd had his own little mental breakdown, yelling at Burnham and Tyler in frustration. So Paul shot him before he could kill either of his crewmates. He’d see them die soon enough. 

“As days go, this is a weird one.” Paul gave them an apologetic look. There was no point in explaining. They were almost out of time anyway. 

So Paul just rambled for another moment. “We’ve been through all this before. Multiple times actually. And, I hate to tell you, but I have yet to find a way where it ends with a win for the home team.” He was truly sorry and saying it actually made him feel a little lighter.

Burnham and Tyler only stared at him in horror as the spore drive reached critical overload.

“I’ll see you again soon.” That was some comfort, at least for Paul himself.

And then the drive exploded and took the whole ship with it.


	6. The twenty-first time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tyler getting therapy for his PTSD is my kink...
> 
> I had to write Mudd again...
> 
> No fluff this time. Just angst and Hugh being badass - not necessarily in that order...
> 
> CW: character death

The twenty-first time:

The twenty-first time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets lost and then he learned. This time he was a lot calmer. He took five seconds to enjoy his kiss with Hugh. Warm brown eyes sparkled at him as they parted. This was a good loop; he could feel it in his bones.

“Hugh, I know this is going to sound crazy, but bear with me.” His husband was all ears as Paul explained what was going on. It was so much easier to say it all and to convince Hugh when he was calm and didn’t appear like a maniac.

“So, what’s your strategy? How are we going to stop Mudd?”, Hugh asked, already brimming with ideas how to help. 

“I tried to get Lieutenant Tyler to tell me something about Mudd. They shared a prison cell.” Some of Paul’s frustration returned as he remembered each of those conversations. “But with that man it’s like pulling teeth. As soon as I even mention his prison time, he clamps up. He usually gets real quiet and sometimes downright hostile.” 

“Paul, I get that it’s frustrating, but you know it’s not his fault, right?” Paul loved how Hugh was here for him and his frustration, but still so protective of one of his patients.

Hugh had been the one to check Tyler for injuries after his escape. Of course he hadn’t been allowed to tell Paul anything specific. However, just the concerned look on Hugh’s face as he mentioned it, had been enough for Paul to realise that that man had been through hell and back.

“I know, and I understand, I think.”

“I’m not sure you do, babe. Lieutenant Tyler was hurt severely over a long period of time. He was traumatised, that’s why he has to go to his therapy sessions. He’s suffering from PTSD. Anything that triggers his memories of prison can easily put him back in the mindset he needed to construct in order to survive there. That can easily translate into secrecy and hostility if he feels pushed.”

“I’m trying really hard not to push him. But you know I’m not always good with people.”

“Maybe you need to recruit some help.”

“That’s why I’m talking to you.”

“Paul, just because I have more social skills than you, doesn’t mean I’m the right person for the job. Tyler is nice enough to me when he sees me, but he barely knows me. There’s no basis, no trust. You need to find someone he likes, someone he’s already opened up to.”

“Burnham!”, Paul exclaimed. He had noticed in multiple of the previous loops that there was a connection between those two. It was its nature that had baffled him so far. But he could muse about that later. “I just saw them in engineering – at the end of the last loop. Tyler was definitely tense because Mudd was there, but he talked to Burnham.”

“Sounds like it’s worth a try.”

Paul pulled Hugh close for a kiss. “You are a genius!” Then he turned around, taking a few steps towards the exit. When Hugh loudly cleared his throat, he turned around in surprise.

Hugh was still standing right there. He looked worried and Paul sighed. “Don’t look at me like that. Just come along, I’m better with you anyway.” He chuckled at Hugh’s incredulous look.

Paul was about to start walking again, but Hugh said, “Wait a minute.”

“What is it?” He looked back at the doctor. Hugh took something from a shelf that was just next to the cabinet which held the technology they had been collecting. Hugh held up what he had found – two hyposprays. 

“What’s that?”

“It’s a strong sedative,” Hugh answered, “Since you’re not carrying your phaser and I don’t really know my way around weapons, this seems like an appropriate measure of self-defence. “

“I have to repeat myself.” Paul smiled with pride. “You are a genius!”

The doctor took some minutes to show him exactly how the hypospray worked. Paul had never used one on anyone but himself. He had to push away an uneasy feeling because seeing the hypospray brought back memories of being sedated himself not too many loops ago.

“You just need to hold it against the person’s arm or leg. The pressure is high enough to send the compound through a few layers of clothes as well as skin. It’s even better if you can press it against the neck, close to the carotid artery. Then the sedative works immediately. If you hit a limb it might take up to five minutes to take the person out. But then they are out like a light. The effect will wear off after about two hours.”

Paul nodded his understanding, pocketed the hypospray, and then he looked at his communicator to check the time.

“By now Burnham should be in the shuttle bay already. They’ve just beamed over the gormagander at this time. Let’s go.”

But Hugh came over to him first, pulling him into a kiss. Luckily they were still in their private little corner of sickbay, far away from the prying eyes of any other personnel. Paul fell into the kiss, taking the short time he had to enjoy the soft feeling of Hugh’s lips and tongue against his. 

“What was that for?” Paul asked when Hugh pulled away.

Hugh’s eyes twinkled as he answered, “Thanks for letting me help.” This time he was the one to make his way to the exit doors first, Paul following at a distance, still a bit dizzy from the kiss.

Hugh was just out of the door, when he bumped into someone. From behind him Paul could only see a blur of scruffy beard, large rings and black leather. Mudd! What was he doing here?

Hugh reacted lightning fast. He shot Paul a warning look over his shoulder before Mudd caught his bearings. Then he blocked the door with his body, squaring his shoulders and planting his feet. Paul had just enough time to duck away next to the door, just outside of Mudd’s line of sight.

“Stop! Who are you?” Hugh managed to sound so calm, no quiver to his voice or body. Paul was impressed and scared shitless at the same time.

“Harcourt Fenton Mudd, Harry for short. And with whom do I have the pleasure?” Paul caught the glimmer of rings as a hand reached for Hugh’s. The doctor let Mudd shake his hand, but didn’t move a centimetre from where he was blocking the door.

“Doctor Culber. Do you need medical assistance?” Mudd laughed out loud.

“You might be the first polite person I meet on this ship. That’s actually refreshing.” Paul took a moment to remember how in another loop Hugh had shot Mudd from behind. It made the situation a fraction more bearable. “Would you help me if I had some kind of injury, even though I’m an intruder and taking over this ship?”

“I’m a doctor. It’s my duty to help those in need of medical attention.” Paul was amazed at the level of calm and professionalism Hugh kept up. Damn, he’d never known how valuable his husband could be in a crisis.

By now the rest of the medical personnel had spotted that there was something wrong. It was the CMO who came closer and called, “Doctor Culber, what is the matter?”

Hugh turned around and gave her a sharp look. “Please, stay inside. I can handle this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt!” The urgency in his voice was enough to make her stop and halt every movement behind her with an outstretched hand. She completely ignored Paul, which was alright for him. He couldn’t provide her any comfort.

“Heroic.” Harry Mudd snorted, obviously content with his new toy. “I’ll leave your colleagues alone if you’re useful, Doctor. Do you know how the spore drive works?”

Hugh pulled up his eyebrows. “I’m a doctor, not an engineer.” That made Mudd laugh outright.

“You have guts! Fair enough. I didn’t come to sickbay for the drive anyway. But you can help me with something else, doctor.” He almost purred, seemingly amused by this harmless entertainment. “Tell me what could I tell the captain that is severe enough to make him come to sickbay?”

“Well, he’s had all his shots recently. So I can hardly order him here.” Paul’s mouth fell open. If he weren’t so tense and afraid, he’d be turned on by this cocksure side of his husband. Where had that been hiding all these years? 

“Oh, ha ha. I like it better when I make the jokes.” Mudd only sounded mildly annoyed. “Wouldn’t Lorca come here if one of his officers were hurt or sick?”

Paul saw Hugh’s mouth twitch – the first sign of insecurity so far. But his voice remained steady as he answered, “I don’t know what you’ve heard about the captain, but I can assure you, he’s not really the caring type.” Mudd laughed at so much bluntness. “Wait. Let me rephrase that. The captain knows his meddling is neither needed nor wanted in sickbay.” 

“I’m the first to believe that.” Mudd sounded genuinely amused. “But there must be some kind of emergency that would warrant calling the captain down here.”

Hugh looked as if he was giving the question some thought. “Maybe if Lieutenant Tyler was in sickbay. He and Lorca seem to be close.” Hugh shrugged. “But wait, no. Tyler is chief of security. He gets hurt a lot – on duty and in training. If Lorca came to see him every time, he’d be here more than he is on the bridge.”

“Now you’re just stalling.” Mudd’s voice had taken on a dangerous edge. 

Paul couldn’t see him, but he could see Hugh’s eyes focus on something in front of him. Following the doctor’s look Paul saw the business end of the same pistol he had been shot with in an earlier loop. It took all his self-control to not jump out from behind the door then. He wanted nothing more than to protect Hugh, but Mudd knew who Paul was and showing his interest in Hugh’s wellbeing could only have one outcome. Mudd would torture Hugh to get information from Paul about the spore drive. And Paul knew himself well enough to see that he would give the criminal anything to keep him from hurting Hugh. So he clenched his fists and stayed put.

 

“Now give me some useful information, or I’ll get rid of you and ask the next doctor in line.” All amusement was gone from Mudd’s tone.

“Alright.” Hugh tried to remain calm, but Paul could see that he was trembling now. “Lorca needs his chief engineer and he knows it. So if you tell him that I need to see him because Lieutenant Stamets’ health is in danger, it is very likely that he’ll come to sickbay immediately.” Hugh screwed his eyes shut in defeat. He looked so frustrated.

Paul saw Mudd gesturing with the gun. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” And then everything happened incredibly fast.

Hugh had reached into his pocket and pulled out the hypospray. He emptied it into Mudd’s leg, which was closest to his hand. Triumph or maybe relief spread on his face, but only for a second. Then Mudd pressed the pistol to Hugh’s chest and pulled the trigger. At close range the blast was enough to rip through the doctor’s chest. He took a last gurgling breath. His eyes already looked empty as Hugh sank to the floor.

“Computer, transport me to my ship.” 

Mudd was gone before Paul could even react. Not that he would have cared about him. All he could do was stare at Hugh’s lifeless body, his dark eyes dull and robbed of their warmth. 

Paul stood there like a stone statue as the CMO pushed past him and took Hugh’s pulse only to realise that there was no life left in him. She got up again and moved in front of Paul. Her lips were moving, he was sure. But he couldn’t hear a thing. It was like nothing existed apart from Hugh’s haunting empty eyes. 

This time when the ship exploded, Paul was grateful. He couldn’t bear to be alive in a world without Hugh in it. So he welcomed the darkness as it engulfed him.


	7. The twenty-second time and after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short one. And it's sad and angsty without much fluff.   
> But fear not. There will be one more plot-heavy chapter and then there will be fluff for the ages.

The twenty-second time:

The twenty-second time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets cried. He held on to Hugh with the force of pure desperation. There was no kissing this time, no banter, no explaining. Just wet cheeks pressed against Hugh’s neck and a vicelike embrace. 

Paul didn’t have the energy or clarity for words. And Hugh, bless him, stopped asking questions after a few minutes. Instead, he manoeuvred Paul over to a biobed. There they sat down and Hugh held him, his hand drawing calming circles on Paul’s back. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was some comfort.

Paul might have repeated this for a few loops. He wasn’t quite sure how many. It was so easy to lose track of time in his little prison of endless repetition.

It didn’t take much time for him to bounce back though. Some driving force deep inside him understood that lethargy wasn’t an option. Damn, if he didn’t get his shit together soon, they would all die – permanently – either on this ship or in this war. He had to save them all. So Paul gritted his teeth and continued.

He knew he had to think of a way to protect Hugh. He wouldn’t survive seeing the love of his life die again. He would do whatever was necessary to protect him. No matter how wrong it was or how guilty it made him feel. Paul had to keep Hugh safe at any cost.

So when the next loop started, Paul reached for the shelf behind him while his lips were still glued to Hugh’s.

“I love you,” he said as the hypospray hissed against Hugh’s neck. “I’m so sorry.” And he was. 

Paul walked Hugh over to the nearest biobed and laid him down. It felt wrong, but it was the only way he could think of to protect Hugh. Paul swallowed hard. He gave his sleeping husband one last look before he left in search of Burnham.

Interlude:

And so it happened over and over again. 

“I love you.” The hiss of the hypospray. “I’m so so sorry.” And he was. Every time a bit more.

Each time he put Hugh to sleep made Paul feel guiltier. It felt like betraying his lover’s trust over and over again. And the guilt felt like a weight pulling him down further and further into despair. And the knowledge that he was safe was cold comfort. Saving the ship on his own felt hard, almost impossible at times.

For that reason Paul allowed himself to revel in someone else’s romance for a bit. It was the pain and the guilt and the loneliness that opened his heart for Burnham’s struggle with the expression of emotions.

So he really meant it when he said that he was sorry for her.

So he really wanted to help her woo Tyler, not just for solving their problem with Mudd, but for making her happy.

So he took the time to dance with her and tell her about how he met Hugh.

It wasn’t just for Burnham’s or the mission’s sake though. Paul did it as much for his own sanity. He needed those glimpses of happiness and light among the darkness and chaos that surrounded him. He needed a reminder of what he was fighting for as every time he heard the hiss of the hypospray it felt like a knife twisting in his gut. 

So Paul Stamets took every tiny shred of positivity he could get his hands on until he’d finally be able to save them all.


	8. The penultimate time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is how I imagine they pulled it off.   
> Also, I finally got to write Tilly for a bit. Yay!

The penultimate time:

The penultimate time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets knew that he was at the end of his rope. He couldn’t do this much longer. When he kissed Hugh, it was with desperation. When he apologised for sedating him, it was with gravity. When he made his way to the party, it was with the heavy knowledge that he couldn’t take much more of this.

So he was glad to see Burnham dance with Tyler. Paul even cheered inwardly as they kissed. They were so young and innocent and adorable. When had he become so invested in other people’s relationships? But then again, he’d learned more about Burnham in the last few loops than in all the weeks before. So of course he cared for her. And he held on to that slither of happiness.

It wouldn’t last him long.

Soon the serious side of life caught up with Paul and his companions for this loop. He made his way to the bridge with Tyler and Burnham in tow. 

As they arrived, Mudd was already there, threatening their communications officer. Tyler tried to shoot him, but of course Mudd had surrounded himself with a containment field again. Stamets could have kicked himself for not anticipating that. There wasn’t much time to tear himself up about it though.

The shock ran like lightning through Paul’s bones when Mudd threw a little sphere at Lieutenant Tyler, who then proceeded to disintegrate in what looked like agony. Paul couldn’t bear to look. Instead, he observed the raw pain in Burnham’s eyes, and that was somehow even worse. As she threw herself into battle, Paul was still rooted to the spot. It was all too much. 

When Mudd threatened the whole bridge crew, something inside Paul just snapped.

“Stop!” He made his way in front of Burnham and Saru to shield them. “I can’t watch you kill any more people. “ This was stupid. This would kill the all in the end. But he couldn’t stop. “It needs me to work.” 

Mudd took him on a little trip to engineering, where he confirmed that the machinery in the spore-drive chamber matched the implants on Paul’s forearms. Mudd seemed to be satisfied with that as proof and unwilling to strap Paul into the spore drive. He probably feared that he’d simply pilot them to Starfleet Central and have Mudd arrested. Instead, he transported the chief engineer over to the brig to await his new Klingon masters.

As if the fact that he had failed Hugh and Burnham and the crew and all of Starfleet wasn’t bad enough, Paul was transported into the same cell as Captain Lorca. Well, Paul thought, misery loves company. He leaned against a wall and let himself sink to the floor. This was no doubt the longest most dreadful day in history.

“Stamets!” Lorca was shouting and it did nothing for Paul’s exhaustion and self-loathing. “What the hell is going on out there?”

Despite the severity of the situation Paul had to laugh. Maybe he was finally going insane. “And here I was thinking you’re the one with all the answers.” Lorca looked at him incredulously. It was hilarious really. “No wait, it was you always thinking that.” Paul sat in his corner and chuckled – unable to stop.

He was pulled up by the collar of his uniform, Lorca’s face suddenly so close to his own. “Pull yourself together, Lieutenant! We need to save the ship.”

Paul still couldn’t quell the laughter bubbling up from deep inside him, where the memories of death and darkness were clawing at his sanity. “What do you think I’ve been doing for the last – what – thirty hours?”

Lorca looked at him like he’d lost his mind. Probably a sound assessment. He let go of Paul though, letting him fall back to the ground with a thud. Now he seemed to be talking to himself when he said, “How did Harry Mudd get onto my ship?”

“The question isn’t how. The question is how often!” Paul was calming down slowly. Something about Lorca’s despair made his own feelings easier to take. Misery loves company, indeed.

“What do you mean by that?” Lorca looked wary.

“It’s almost funny how much you don’t know.” Paul shook his head softly, trying to force some clarity back into himself. If all was lost anyway, explaining it one last time for Lorca wouldn’t make him lose it. Working for the Klingons would. 

Paul took a few deep breaths and finally managed to stifle his laughter. “Harry Mudd has a timecrystal and he used it to create a temporal loop. It’s about thirty minutes long. Whatever happens within that loop, doesn’t matter. We can all die. The ship can be destroyed. Mudd can die. The loop gets reset and we’re back at the point in time where the ship encounters the gormagander. Mudd was hiding inside it and you beamed him aboard.”

“What?” Lorca didn’t look convinced. Paul indicated their surroundings as if that were proof and explanation enough.

“Mudd reset the timeloop at least fifty times and bit by bit he got control of all of the ship. He’s going to sell it to the Klingons. That’s what he said at least.”

“That son of a bitch!” Lorca punched a bulkhead.

Paul had to hold back laughter again. Something about this whole situation was almost endearing. “It’s nice to know that someone makes you feel the way you make me feel on a regular basis.” Lorca glared at him. “What? It’s refreshingly human of you, Captain.”

Lorca looked ready to strangle him. Instead he just pressed out, “And how do you know all of this?”

“Oh, I can remember all of the timeloops. It must have to do with the tardigrade DNA. I exist outside of the normal time stream. I’ve been trying to stop Mudd. But now he knows that I’m what makes the spore drive work and we’re pretty much fucked.” Paul looked at the floor.

“And how did he find out?” 

“I told him.” Lorca took a step towards Paul. Maybe he would strangle him. That would certainly solve their problem. Without Paul the spore drive didn’t work. But Mudd would only turn back time to try it all again. “I couldn’t take seeing the whole crew dying over and over again.” That stopped Lorca in his tracks. An emotion rushed over his face like a shadow. Paul would have called it empathy. But he wasn’t sure since he didn’t expect that to be in the captain’s repertoire. 

Suddenly a chirping noise rang through the uncomfortable silence. Both Paul and Lorca looked at the communicator that was still strapped Paul’s belt. He mused that Mudd hadn’t taken it away because it was useless with all of the ship’s systems und the intruder’s control. So it was all the more surprising when the little devices chirped again.

He took it out and asked warily, “Yes?”

“Lieutenant Stamets? It’s Burnham.”

“How are you contacting me? Mudd has control of all the ship’s systems.”

“Correction, Mudd has control of all the critical systems. Communicators intended for planetside use function through a separate, non-critical system.” Burnham sounded a bit smug, but Paul was too happy to hear her voice to mind. “Where is your current location Lieutenant.”

“I’m in the brig. With the captain. Wanna join us? It’s a party.” Lorca glared, but Paul ignored him. 

“Lieutenant Stamets, I think now is not the right time for humour.” She sounded as rigid as ever.

“Really? We’re about to be sold to the Klingons and the Federation is going to lose this war. I’m pretty sure gallows humour was invented exactly for this type of situation.” 

“There might be a way to save the ship.” Paul looked at the communicator, then at Lorca. He saw his own disbelief mirrored in the captain’s face. “I have a plan.”

Paul’s brow furrowed. “How are you able to formulate a plan after watching Tyler die like that?” He tried not to sound too impressed. It was uncanny. “When Hugh got hurt I wasted at least one loop crying.” He hated saying that in front of Lorca, but the words just came out.

“Sir, I don’t think now is the time to discuss how we deal with our emotions.” Burnham’s voice was tight, reminding Paul of the unshed tears in her eyes he’d seen on the bridge. The fact that all of this seemed to actually affect her calmed him. It was irrational, but he felt less alone in his grief

“So what’s your plan?” Lorca had not patience for sentiment either, it seemed.

“Captain, did Lieutenant Stamets brief you about the situation?”

“Barely. Now tell me what you intend to do.” It was unmistakably an order.

“First we need to get Mudd to reset the timeloop. If he does that we can try to use the ship’s non-critical systems to trick him into giving the Discovery back to us.”

“Mudd has everything he wants,” Paul said, “Why would he reset the timeloop now?”

“He doesn’t have everything,” Burnham replied, “He doesn’t have Stella.”

“That woman he keeps going on about?” Oh, Lorca knew more than Paul had thought.

He chimed in, “Tyler mentioned her, right? Mudd said he lost her due to the war or something.”

“Unlikely.” That was Tilly’s voice coming from somewhere in the background. “I’ve just accessed Mudd’s file in the Discovery’s archive. Stella is the daughter of Baron Grimes, an arms dealer who’s made big profits since the war started. It doesn’t look like she left him though. Actually her father paid for Mudd’s debts, and Stella kind of reported her husband missing.”

“So basically he’s indebted to her family and she loves him? What is his problem?” Burnham sounded confused.

“He doesn’t want her back.” Lorca knew Mudd, and he had more experience with the human art of cabale. “He just loves telling stories and making himself seem like the victim. He must be running from her and her father. If he really wants to sell Discovery to the Klingons, it’s probably because he needs the money to pay back Baron Grimes and get rid of that woman.”

“Fine.” Burnham sounded wary. There was a moment of hesitation on her end of the line. “I’ll find another way to make him reset the timeloop.” 

“Even if you can, how are we going to stop him?” Paul didn’t dare to hope yet. 

“We give him the ship.” She said it matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious idea in the world.

“What?”, Lorca and Paul asked in unison.

“We give him the ship. We let him think he has won. We appeal to his ego and tell him that he can have the ship and the spore drive.”

“What?” 

“Let me finish!” Paul was impressed at Burnham giving orders to the captain now. “We need to trick him into believing that we’ve given up. Lieutenant Stamets, you know him best. If we give him the ship and don’t fight, Mudd won’t kill anyone, right?”

“Yes. I’ve only seen him kill people who were in his way. Well, except for the captain. It seems like he kills him for fun.” Paul couldn’t quite place the look on Lorca’s face. “But he thinks he’s won this time and left him alive. So I guess it’s reasonable to assume that he won’t kill him.” 

“He won’t kill me,” Lorca provided, “He wants to give me to the Klingons. He wants me to suffer by their hands.”

“Good,” Burnham seemed unperturbed.

Stamets had to ask, “But why would he believe that we would simply give him the ship?”

“Because he knows my history with the Buran.” Lorca looked like he’d seen a ghost, but his voice didn’t falter. “He’ll believe me when I tell him that I’m not willing to lose another crew to the Klingons.”

There was a long moment of silence.

Burnahm finally broke it. “When we give him the ship, he’ll sit in the chair. He loves the captain’s chair.”

“Another non-critical system.” Paul was catching on to her plan.

“Right. It’s pretty sure that he’ll give his orders to call for the Klingons to the chair’s command station rather than the main computer.”

“And we can easily rig that system to send the signal elsewhere or nowhere at all.” Paul was back in the game. This could actually work.

Tilly made a noise in the background. “I just found the hailing frequency of Baron Grimes’ ship. If Mudd is running from him, it’s feasible that he would be able to contain him, right? So we could let Mudd call for Stella rather than the Klingons.”

“Sounds like poetic justice.” Paul had to smile. 

“You know, we could also kill him or sedate him after he thinks he’s called for the Klingons”, Lorca said as calm and innocent as if he was talking about the weather.

Paul gave him a long look. “You are very disturbing, you know?” He didn’t want to admit that throughout the loops he’d thought about killing Mudd – permanently – several times as well.

Burnham found more professional words to shoot the captain’s idea down. “With all due respect, sir, that’ll be difficult as long as he controls the ship’s systems. He keeps protecting himself with a containment field. It will be easier if we trick him into believing the Klingons have arrived and letting him go to the transporter room. When Baron Grimes shows up instead, he’ll hopefully be stunned enough to surrender himself.”

“Then all we need now is a way to make him reset the loop,” Tilly piped up again.

“Leave that to me.” With that Burnham cut the connection.

Paul was still looking at his captain, musing over what he’d learned about him in the last few minutes. Of course he’d read up on Lorca’s history when he had been stationed on the Discovery. So Paul knew what the official reports said about the Buran. He hadn’t thought that it was something that haunted Lorca though. That was probably because he got so annoyed by the man that he frequently forgot he was human.

Lorca’s last suggestion had fit a lot better into his picture of the captain. 

“Would you really kill him?”, he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

Lorca glared at him with disdain. “Of course. And don’t you tell me that you wouldn’t. You’ve seen him kill the crew repeatedly. You’ve seen him hurt your husband.”

The words just hung there between them, marking Paul as the liar he was. And suddenly he remembered Hugh, holding a gun, looking like he couldn’t believe what he’d just done. Maybe all of them were heartless animals deep down, Paul mused, and Lorca was just honest enough to admit it.

He would have to think about this, but now was not the time. A look at his communicator told him that they had only a few minutes left – if Burnham got Mudd to reset the timeloop, that was. There was still something he needed to do.

“Listen, Captain. You won’t remember any of this as soon as the loop starts again. But we’ll have to convince you that this is really happening.” Paul took a deep breath. This was difficult to ask of a man like Lorca. “Can you tell me a secret? Something nobody knows about you. Something I can tell you to make you trust me.” Lorca pulled up an eyebrow. He was obviously incredulous that Paul even had the audacity to ask something like that. “It worked with Burnham.”

Lorca sighed, then smirked. “Tell me one of your secrets first.” 

“You won’t remember it.”

“Then you have nothing to lose.”

Paul just looked at him, but the seconds were ticking away. So he gave in. “I have killed Mudd more than once in the timeloop and I have thought about killing him, really killing him – permanently.” 

“Some nights I still cry over the crew of the Buran.”

Paul’s eyes went wide. It shouldn’t have been surprising, but he really had believed that Lorca was a heartless bastard. He looked sincere though and haunted. So Paul didn’t prod. He just said with the same sincerity, “I won’t let you lose another crew.”

Lorca snorted in derision. After a moment of silence he said, “Make sure to bring Burnham with you to the bridge. I won’t believe you. Hell, I’ll probably punch you in the face if you tell me that secret. But I might believe her.”

Paul heaved a resigned sigh. “How come Burnham has the key to every man’s heart on this ship?” He had to grin despite himself.

“I don’t know.” Lorca smirked again. “But since when have you taken a liking to her? I still remember you bristling when I assigned her to your lab.” 

Paul blushed. He was unwilling – and frankly unable – to explain how the hated mutineer Michael Burnham had somehow ended up his beloved colleague and protégé.

To change the topic he asked, “What did you do to Mudd to make him hate you enough to put all of us through this?” But at that moment the ship exploded. The floor seemed to disappear beneath Paul’s feet. And the world went dark around him. Maybe for the last time.


	9. The last time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the comfort. Get ready for loads of fluff (and some more tears because who am I kidding...)

The last time:

The last time he jumped back and everything repeated Paul Stamets was surprised that it had worked. He broke the kiss with Hugh to mutter, “Whoa! She did it!” Hugh looked confused. Still, he didn’t have time to react before the hypospray hissed against his neck.

“I’m so so sorry. I love you.”

This would be the last time – either because Burnham’s plan would work or because Mudd’s plan would work. In either case there would be no more chances, but also no more reasons to do this to Hugh. A small comfort. 

He made his way to the mess hall in order to explain her own plan to Burnham. They recruited Tyler and then made their way to the bridge.

It took some effort to convince Lorca. He didn’t punch Paul in the face, but it was close. Burnham was the one to convince him in the end – of course. 

When Harry Mudd stepped onto the bridge, the tensest five minutes of Paul’s life began. Each of his nerve endings was on fire. But Lorca did an excellent job. Mudd swallowed their story, hook line and sinker.

As he and Burnham walked with Mudd to the transporter room, Paul was almost giddy. It was working out. Mudd couldn’t turn back time, and they were winning. So he couldn’t help but gloat a bit. If anyone deserved it, it was Harcourt Fenton Mudd.

Paul felt a bit sorry for sweet Stella. She really seemed to love Mudd, albeit in a domineering scary kind of way. As he finally beamed their passengers off the ship, the weight of a whole galaxy lifted from Paul’s shoulders. He couldn’t help but smile his tentative relief. 

It was finally over.

Except it wasn’t.

There was one thing left to do.

Every shred of triumph slipped away as he made his way to sickbay. It felt like wading through deep mud. Every step took so much effort. But he made it there at last.

As he entered, the CMO – Doctor Lahiri – stormed towards him. She was a tiny woman, but the determination that guided her every move could scare grown man. Right now all of it was directed at Paul, and with it hot anger, barely hidden by cold professionalism. Shit!

“Lieutenant Stamets, would you care to tell me why you sedated one of my medical officers?” The fire in her dark eyes clashed with her icy tone.

“I… I… I can explain,” Paul stammered, but really he couldn’t.

“Well then.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearly expecting to be disappointed.

Paul’s throat was dry. The thought that he’d explained all of this at least a hundred times only made the situation more frustrating. He should be able to recite the words in his sleep. But how could you speak, when it felt like your throat was trapped in a vice?

Suddenly the comm system chirped. Lorca’s voice sounded loud over the speakers. “To all hands. We have just averted a serious threat. A criminal named Harry Mudd got us stuck in a temporal loop in order to take over the ship. He took control of all the ship’s critical systems, which now have to be reinitialised. You will be informed as soon as all systems are back to normal. Since the extent of the criminal’s activities on the ship is unclear, you are hereby ordered to report anything out of the ordinary directly to me.”

As the transmission ended, Doctor Lahiri pulled up her eyebrows as if to say, “Saved by the bell.”

She contacted the captain immediately. “Sickbay to Captain Lorca.”

“What is it, Doctor?”

“I have something out of the ordinary to report.” She glared at Paul, but her voice remained level. “About half an hour ago Lieutenant Stamets attacked one of my doctors and drugged him.”

“Stamets?” Lorca sounded mildly confused. “Was it Doctor Culber by any chance?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, Doctor Lahiri, while I’m not aware of all the circumstances, I can tell you that it was Lieutenant Stamets who saved all of us from Harry Mudd. He was the only one who noticed that we were caught in a repeating timeloop. I suggest you find out why he’s able to do that. I’m also certain that whatever he did to Doctor Culber was part of his efforts to save the ship. So I will not punish him for his actions unless he caused Doctor Culber serious harm. So neither should you.”

“Yes, sir.” She cut the connection. 

Lahiri seemed wary, but she took his arm and lead him over to the biobed where Hugh lay, sleeping peacefully. 

“Did I cause him serious harm?” The words slipped out broken, barely above a whisper.

“No.” Her voice was a lot softer now. “The sedative is strong, but it doesn’t usually have any severe side-effects. We’ve monitored his vital signs for most of the time. He’s fine.”

Paul released the breath he’d been holding in a long sigh. 

“So you didn’t want to hurt him,” the CMO observed, “So why did you sedate him then?”

“It’s complicated.”

“I’m clever. Try me.”

“You remember the yellow alert not too long ago?” She nodded. “At that point the timeloop started. The following thirty-odd minutes kept happening over and over again. And each time they ended with the ship being destroyed.”

“What?”

“That was the trigger he used to reset the loop.”

“So we all died?”

Paul was relieved because she seemed to understand. “Multiple times. But none of you remembered. To you it was always like it was happening for the first time.” 

She nodded again. “And Doctor Culber?”

“He helped me in some of the loops when I tried to stop Mudd. Until…” He trailed off.

She waited a long time before she prompted, “Until?” 

“He died.” Paul could only whisper. “Right there at the door. He was shot, saving me and you and all your colleagues by distracting Mudd.”

Lahiri’s mask of professionalism never slipped, but something about her demeanour changed.

“I couldn’t let that happen again. I had to keep him safe.”

“You did.” She squeezed his shoulder. 

Neither of them spoke for a while. Until he couldn’t take standing next to Hugh and still feeling so far away from him anymore.

“What happens now?”

“Well, we have a few options. We could wake him right away with a hormone compound, but I’d advise against it. That’ll just give him a hangover and I don’t see why we couldn’t let him sleep for a couple more hours.” She gave him a questioning look.

“Let him sleep. I just want to be close to him.” Causing Hugh any more discomfort was the last thing Paul wanted.

“For your comfort we could transport him over to your quarters. His readings have been normal so it’s very unlikely that there will be any ill effects from the drug. He’ll be a bit drowsy when he wakes. And he needs to drink some water right away, and he should eat soon after. But there is really no reason for him to stay in sickbay. If there are any complications we can always beam him back here.”

That was a lot more than Paul had hoped for, actually. He’d been ready to camp in sickbay until Hugh would wake up. He’d also been ready to have the very uncomfortable conversation that would follow right here in front of everyone. As long as it meant, that Hugh would be here with him, safe and sound, he’d been ready to do anything.

This was a mercy.

As soon as the required systems were up and running again, the CMO had both of them transported over to their quarters, to their own bed. Paul got a carafe of water and a glass, which he put on Hugh’s nightstand, easy to reach. Then he sat down on his side of the bed and waited.

***

Paul woke up to soft tapping on a padd. It took him a moment to understand where he was and what was going on. He had fallen asleep on his side of the bed, and Hugh was sitting up next to him now.

“What happened?” He sat up and tried to open is eyes properly.

“You were asleep when I woke up.” Hugh sounded calm, but didn’t look up from the padd right away.

“And you didn’t wake me?” Paul screwed up his face in confusion.

“You looked like you needed the rest.” Now Hugh looked over to him and smiled. It looked so serene that Paul’s mouth fell open. He didn’t deserve such a smile. “And it is a natural spectacle I rarely get to see. So I thought I’d enjoy it while it lasted.”

“You’re not mad at me.” Paul wasn’t quite sure if it was a question or a statement.

The smile slipped from Hugh’s face, but his eyes remained warm and welcoming. “For what? For sedating me?”

“For drugging you against your will! For shutting you out! For keeping you away from the action! For doing it all on my own!” Maybe it was alright that Hugh wasn’t mad. Paul had enough anger for both of them and then some. But it baffled him nonetheless. “How can you not be mad at me?” It almost sounded like an accusation.

“Well, for once I’ve gotten used to you shutting me out sometimes by now.” There was an edge of bitterness to Hugh’s voice that made Paul’s stomach twist.

It must have shown on his face because Hugh put a hand on his cheek to caress it softly. The small touch was more soothing than Paul had ever believed possible.

Hugh looked down for a moment. “Sorry. That wasn’t fair. I’m really not mad at you. I’m not happy with the situation, mind you. But none of it was your fault.”

It was that unconditional absolution that finally made Paul break down. He slumped against Hugh, unable to remain upright. His body convulsed in heavy sobs. But there were no tears. He’d cried enough for one lifetime already. Now he felt drained – empty.

Hugh held him through it, soothingly rubbing his back and neck, cooing and whispering endearments against Paul’s ear. He was there when Paul fell apart in his arms, making sure that none of the pieces could get lost.

They remained like that for a long time.

It took a while after the sobbing had stopped, until Paul was clear enough to look around. On the nightstand there were the carafe of water and the glass he had put there for Hugh. The glass had been used, and the carafe was half empty. Good. Hugh’s medical tricorder was nowhere to be seen though. So it seemed like he had stayed with Paul for the whole time while he had been asleep. Right now the comfort of that knowledge was enough to make him smile a very small smile.

It took another few minutes before Paul trusted his voice enough to speak. It still sounded raspy when he said, “You can check my readings. I know you want to.”

Hugh looked at him, his mouth open. He looked just as incredulous as he had in the timeloop when Paul had told him to just come along – and then Mudd had killed him. Paul managed not to wince, but it was close. 

“You know me too well, babe.” Hugh smiled and scratched his neck, seemingly embarrassed. But he got up immediately to fetch his tricorder. When he returned, he had a glass of water for Paul as well.

Paul drank all of it dutifully and sat still while Hugh moved the medical scanner around about ten centimetres from his skin. Hugh’s brow was furrowed as he looked at the little monitor. But he didn’t look more worried than usual – or what counted as usual ever since Paul had injected himself with the tardigrade DNA. 

“Your readings look normal so far.” Hugh sounded relieved and doubtful at the same time. “You still have to see the CMO first thing tomorrow morning.”

“What?” 

“She sent me a report on what happened while I was out and summoned you for a thorough examination. She is pretty sure you’re traumatised from what you experienced in the temporal loop. And I have to agree. You should probably have therapy.”

“What?!” Paul did his best to look like a kicked puppy. He felt betrayed by his husband – at least on the surface. Somewhere deep down he knew exactly that his dear doctor and the CMO were right. But the prospect of baring his soul to a stranger with a psychology degree was about as enticing as spending another 50 timeloops with Harry Mudd.

Hugh only gave him a look that said, “You know you need it.” And there was no fight left in Paul. He simply had no energy to struggle against those who only wanted to help him. 

“Will you come with me?” Paul asked, his voice small and drawn. “To the CMO, I mean. And maybe to therapy…”

“Of course, babe. I won’t leave you alone.” Hugh kissed him softly on each cheek and then on the forehead.

“So you know what happened to the ship.” Paul noticed belatedly.

“I’m sure I don’t know the half of it. So if you’re up for it, tell me what happened.” 

Paul had to laugh at this. Really, how often had he thought, “If I have to explain all of this one more time, I’ll throw myself out of an airlock”? Right now there was nothing he wanted more than to tell Hugh everything. To share it with the one person who needed to understand why he’d done what he’d done.

“I… I don’t even know where to start.”

Hugh carefully pushed him down onto the mattress, and then manoeuvred him onto his side. He lay down behind Paul so that a big portion of their bodies was touching. Then he wrapped his arms around him and pulled him a little closer. It was perfect. Somehow Paul had forgotten that feeling so grounded and safe was even a possibility.

“Do you want to tell me why you knocked me out with a sedative?” Hugh’s breath tickled against his ear and neck. Through the tight embrace Paul could feel his steady heartbeat. He nodded.

“He killed you. Harry Mudd shot you while I was standing there, less than two metres away. And there was nothing I could do about it.” As his voice became unsteady, Hugh grabbed his hand and interlaced their fingers. A soft caress against his thumb prompted him to continue. “You were so brave, Hugh. You protected me and the staff in sickbay. You kept him occupied and talked to him like it wasn’t a murderous psychopath standing right in front of you. I have no idea how you did it.” Paul tried to convey his pride and awe, but he felt like all he could project was how terrified he had felt. “Then you tried to stop him by sedating him with a hypospray. And you got him. But he still managed to kill you.”

Hugh held him impossibly closer. “I’m here now. I’m alive.” And that was exactly what Paul needed to hear. In fact, he wanted to hear it over and over again.

His voice trembled ever more as he continued. “And I just lost it. I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want to exist in a world without you in it. Do you understand?” Maybe there were still some tears left in him. His eyes certainly felt wet. Hugh kissed his neck, and as Paul turned his face, he also pressed soft kisses to his cheek. “I cried for a few loops. And you held me. But still, somewhere there was this reality where you weren’t holding me, where you were lying dead on the floor with those empty eyes.”

“So you had to stop that from ever happening again?” Hugh’s voice sounded carefully neutral.

“Yes.” Hugh sobbed. “So I drugged you. Every fucking loop after that. Again and again. It was horrible. I’m horrible.”

“No, babe. Listen.” Hugh hushed him and kissed away a stray tear on his cheek. “You did what you had to do so that you could go on saving the ship. It was an impossible situation. I don’t see what else you could have done. And I don’t know what I’d do if I had to watch you die or get hurt. So I understand.”

They lay there in silence for a while.

“I can tell you what you did when someone hurt me.” Paul had calmed down a bit. He almost managed to sound nonchalant. “You killed Harry Mudd in one loop.”

“What?” Hugh’s embrace loosened and Paul turned around to look at him. He looked stricken, his face drained of colour. “I killed him?”

“Yes. And you looked about as shocked afterwards as you do now.”

“What did he do to you?”

“He hurt me to get information about the spore drive.” Hugh swallowed. Paul understood. Hugh was a man who did everything he could to save lives. It seemed about as likely as snow catching fire that he would willingly hurt someone, let alone take a life. “If it makes you feel any better, I killed him a few times too.” While Paul had some weapons training and had needed to use his phaser on away missions before, he had never taken a life.

Hugh didn’t say anything. His breaths remained shallow, his face ashen for a while. Paul lay next to him and busied himself tracing patterns with his fingers across his husband’s chest.

“We need a safe word for such situations,” Paul suddenly blurted into the laden silence, not looking up from Hugh’s chest.

“What?” Obviously it had pulled Hugh out of his reverie.

“Sedating you over and over and over again to keep you from getting yourself killed, is the worst thing I had to do ever. I don’t wanna do anything like that ever again. So we need a code or something for such cases. Something I can say to you – or you to me – in case I need you to just trust and believe me, no matter how crazy what I’m telling you sounds. And then I need you to listen when I tell you to stay safe – no questions asked!”

At first, Hugh still looked confused. But slowly understanding dawned on his face. 

“Gormagander”, he said.

“What?” Now it was Paul who frowned in confusion.

“Gormagander could be our code word for such situations. Please don’t call it a safe word.” 

“Ok.” Paul pulled Hugh closer, needing to feel his grounding warmth again. “Now that that’s out of the way, can I tell you what I found out about Burnham and Tyler?”

“Oh, I’m glad you had the time to gather some gossip on top of saving us all.” Hugh grinned when Paul glared at him. It didn’t quite reach his eyes yet, but they were back on their way to something close to normal – well maybe not close but in the right ballpark. 

“Give me all the gossip, love.”

“Ok.” Paul gave Hugh a little shove to make him lie on his back. Like that he could use his chest as a pillow and look up into those big brown eyes while he talked. Hugh smiled softly and wrapped his arms around him again. “So Burnham likes Tyler, and Tyler likes Burnham. But Burnham doesn’t quite know how to express such feelings. I needed her help though, because Tyler wouldn’t talk to me and he was the only one I could ask about Mudd besides Lorca.”

“So what happened?” Hugh started carding his fingers through Paul’s hair.

“They were at the party in the mess hall. And he wanted to dance with her. And that was really the easiest way to get her close enough to him so they could talk. But she cocked it up a few time. She’s quite shy.”

“Burnham?”

“Yeah, it’s weird, right? Usually she’s so sure of herself. But she’s a bit inexperienced when it comes to love.” There was no way he’d blab about Burnham’s secret. Not even to Hugh. “So I talked to her. We danced. And we talked.” Paul smiled at the fond memory.

“Michael Burnham danced with you?” Hugh pulled up an eyebrow in disbelief. Paul only nodded emphatically. “Is she any good?”

Now Paul’s smile widened into a grin. “Not as good as you.” That seemed to satisfy Hugh. “I told her how you and I met.”

“So you told her that I was just sitting in a nice café, minding my own business, humming Kasseelian opera, only to be interrupted by a very rude yet very handsome man?” Hugh’s eyes sparkled with mirth.

“I told her that you were incredibly rude to make that noise, which you like to refer to as humming.” Paul was just short of sticking out his tongue.

Suddenly the chest beneath him started to vibrate.

“No!” Hugh’s grin grew ever wider as he started humming louder and louder. “Stop that!” 

Paul started poking him between the ribs. At some point Hugh had to laugh so hard, that he had to abandon his humming. Paul couldn’t laugh along yet, but it was nice to do something so mundane for a change.

Finally Hugh caught his breath enough to ask, “What did you tell her about why we got together?”

“I said we appreciated each other’s honesty.” Hugh nodded his approval.

The mood changed again as he kept quiet for a while. 

When Hugh finally spoke it was to ask, “Since we appreciate honesty… Tell me why you couldn’t just leave me working in sickbay under some pretence.” There was no trace of accusation in Hugh’s voice. But it still hurt.

“What? Like telling you I had to go look after an experiment in my Lab that I’d forgotten about?” 

“Something like that.”

“I told you that. Exactly that. That was in the beginning sometime, maybe the third or fourth loop.”

“You sound like it didn’t end well.” Now Hugh looked guilty for even asking in the first place.

“You were summoned to the shuttle bay to examine the gormagander – or, considering your track record of caring for huge non-humanoid creatures, you might have volunteered for the job.” 

“And then?” 

“You got shot, hit your head on a console, lay on the floor bleeding. I couldn’t get the image out of my head. So trying that again was out of the question.”

Hugh hugged him impossibly closer. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you.”

“Oh, but you did help me.” Paul looked up so that Hugh could see the sincerity in his eyes. “The times I managed to convince you that I wasn’t going insane we were a really good team. You were amazing.” 

Hugh blushed. Then he looked away for a moment. “And what happened when you couldn’t convince me?” The sadness in his eyes took Paul’s breath away.

He had to wait a moment before he could begin to answer. “That happened right after the first loop when I realised that all of that was really happening, that I wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating or something.” He sighed. “I got so frantic and desperate to save you. That was back in the day when seeing the ship get destroyed and the whole crew die wasn’t normal yet.”

“Oh, Paul.” Hugh looked close to tears, his eyes shiny in the soft lighting of their quarters.

“I couldn’t get the words out that I needed to explain it all to you. And I pushed you away. So you got scared. And the other doctors noticed.” Tears started to roll down Hugh’s cheeks, and Paul could feel his throat constricting. “They… You thought that I was having some kind of episode. I don’t blame you. It must have been scary. I behaved like a madman.”

“What did I do?” Hugh’s voice was barely a whisper.

“You… you didn’t. They strapped me to a biobed so I couldn’t get away or hurt myself. Then I was sedated.”

Hugh took Paul’s face into his hands, carefully caressing his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head. It was painful to see him like that.

“I understand. But it wasn’t your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.” The words sounded hollow to his own ears. So Paul tried to back them up with actions. He put his own hands on top of Hugh’s, caressing his fingers and pressing them even closer to his face.

For a while they just lay like that, grieving for some kind of innocence that had been lost between them.

It was Hugh who spoke first. The tears were drying on his face now. “Are you mad at me?”

Paul took a deep breath. It was imperative that Hugh could believe his answer. He knew what it felt like to need absolution. “No, not at all. You did what you had to do, and so did the CMO and the nurses. You made the best possible decision with what you knew at the time.”

Hugh nodded. His hands wandered from Paul’s face to the nape of his neck. “Ok. Promise me that you’ll remember those words when you can’t believe that I’m not mad at you either.” Paul nodded too.

Then he was pulled into a kiss. It felt like he was breathing Hugh in, like he was surrounded by his lover inside and out. It felt incredibly safe. He could have stayed in this safe haven forever. 

The kiss had to stop sometime though, but Paul couldn’t say if it had lasted for minutes or hours.

“There is still a good chance I’ll panic when I have to stay in sickbay for too long, or lie down on a biobed, or get a hypospray…”

“We can work on that. I’ll be there with you and make sure you’re safe. Ok?”

They hugged and kissed again.

Suddenly Hugh’s stomach gave a loud grumble. They broke the kiss to look at each other, and then they had to laugh.

“The CMO said you should eat shortly after you wake up.” Paul ducked his head. It had been his job to take care of Hugh. 

“You should be hungry too.”

“Starving, now that you mention it. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

Hugh got off the bed and put on his shoes on. Just like Paul he was still wearing his uniform, but at some point he had unzipped the jacket. The two metre distance between them already felt like a lightyear.

“I can go to the mess hall, replicate some food, and bring it back here. Sound good?”

Paul didn’t have the words to describe the loss he was feeling. He couldn’t be alone right now. Something in his face gave it away because Hugh held out a hand to him and pulled him off the bed.

“Come along then.”

***

The mess hall was almost empty now. It was around four in the morning. All the evidence of the party had already been cleared away. 

Both of them replicated soup and some bread. As they looked for a table, Paul noticed Tilly and Burnham sitting together. It looked like Tilly was bombarding Burnham with questions, which she answered in a resigned manner, sipping tea in between. The sheer normalcy of the scene made a small smile spread on Paul’s face.

Hugh led the way and put his tray down on the table right next to Burnham and Tilly. As Burnham noticed Paul, she nodded at him. When he had placed his tray on the table, Tilly suddenly got up. She was fast as she rounded the table and came towards him. Without a word the redhead threw her arms around Paul, encasing him in a tight hug.

He was flabbergasted, standing there stiff as a board, unsure what to do with his hands. First he looked at Hugh for help, but his husband just smiled and started eating his soup. Then Paul looked to Burnham. She only raised an eyebrow, and then she continued sipping her tea as if nothing was amiss.

Meanwhile Paul just stood there and waited for it to stop. He didn’t feel like saying anything or pushing Tilly away though. He didn’t know how long it took, but at some point his body just relaxed. He melted into the hug. It actually felt really nice – like letting go of a ledge and being caught instantly.

After a few more moments Tilly let go. Paul was surprised to feel a pang of loss. 

“Sorry, sir. You just looked like you really needed a hug.” Tilly didn’t look sorry at all. “Michael told me what happened. Thank you so much for saving us.” Then she smiled and went back to her seat.

When Paul continued to just stand there, Hugh nudged him towards his chair. The two of them ate in silence while Tilly shared some gossip about the party. Paul was barely listening though. He was still trying to figure out how he was feeling about all of… this.

When the two women got up to leave, Burnham shortly squeezed Paul’s arm as she passed him. Tilly let her take a few more long strides before she leaned down to Paul conspiratorially. 

“Sir, you need to tell me what happened between Tyler and Burnham later. We totally need to tagteam if we want to get those two together.” Paul almost choked on his soup. She looked dead serious. “Burnham will never make it on her own. She lives like a nun!” 

Burnham came back to pull Tilly away. “Don’t tell her I said that,” Tilly stage-whispered from halfway across the mess hall.

Next to him Hugh almost burst with laughter. Paul just kept looking from the retreating cadet to his husband and back.

“What just happened?”

“I’d say you acquired a family on this ship without intending to.” Hugh tried to hide a wide grin behind his cup. The little crinkles around his eyes gave it away though. “Which is how these things usually happen, I guess. You don’t really get to choose your family.” 

Something inside Paul resonated with that idea as if someone had struck a chord. 

Hugh gave him another minute to gape before he said, “Now you could give me some more gossip about Burnham and Tyler.” Hugh looked mischievous. “I know you’re dying to share.”

Paul caught himself within seconds. “Actually they were really adorable. Like, the way Burnham just pulled him over to the dancefloor – iconic! His mouth was hanging open. He had no idea what hit him! And then when they danced and she’d told him about the timeloop, he had the brilliant idea to kiss her. Because he had nothing to lose anyway. Ah, but Tilly is right. Burnham gets so flustered whenever Tyler flirts with her. It’s hopeless…”

***

Half an hour later they were back in their quarters. They still had a few hours left before the CMO wanted to see them, but Paul just knew that he wouldn’t be able to sleep. So they talked and laughed and played at being normal until it slowly started feeling natural again.

“Can we dance?” Paul asked at some point.

“If you want to, babe.” Hugh went to the centre of the room and held out his arms. “Computer, play music, playlist Hugh Earth Classics Stars.”

Soft piano sounds filled the room and a sweet female voice sang, “Wise men say, only fools rush in…”

Paul slowly stepped into Hugh’s personal space. “Will you lead please?” His husband’s eyes went wide.

“If I remember how. It’s been ages since you let me lead the last time.”

“Maybe I should let you lead more often.”

“Not gonna argue with that.” Hugh held on to Paul’s hip and his hand. Then he started swaying both of them in time with the music.

Paul leaned against him, letting himself be consumed by the rhythm. As they swayed and swirled together, Hugh surrounding him like a blanket, Paul felt for the first time in ages like he would be alright. Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Maybe not even next year. But someday. 

He leaned even closer into Hugh, smiling peacefully.

“What are you thinking about, love?”

“That someday Burnham is going to tell someone the story of how she and Tyler got together. And she’ll say, it only took a timeloop and a crazy mushroom-guy to make that happen.” He giggled at the idea.

“Sounds like a good story to me,” Hugh said and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Come visit me on tumblr. http://lilbasthet.tumblr.com/


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